The Family You Never Knew You Had
by Shadow Master
Summary: BtVSWildstorm comics A roadtrip is supposed to be a a journey of discovery, a quest to learn just as much about the country as you do about yourself. For Xander though this will be taken beyond anything he could have imagined
1. Chapter 1

"The Family You Never Knew You Had" by Shadow Master aka Ryley Breen

email : ryleyunderscorebreenathotmaildotcom

Disclaimer: I do not now nor have I ever owned the characters, plot elements or settings in this fanfic crossover. They are the property of their respective owners and so I am not making a single dime off of this. I am doing this purely for my own personal enjoyment and the enjoyment of the readers who like my work. Therefore I would greatly appreciate it if you could refrain from taking any legal action against me. After all anything you could possibly get from me would in no way cover the legal costs of a trial or even getting the lawyers to work on this problem.

Note: This is to all the Wildstorm fans who might read this fanfic once it is posted online at I am only just getting into the whole Wildstorm universe as a result of my efforts to familiarize myself with the first WildC.A.Ts team. I am in the progress of downloading more issues online and will read them when I can so that I may be able to stay true to the characters I will be using. Therefore I ask that you exercise some restraint and tolerance for any mistakes or grievous errors I might make in the following fanfic. Rest assured that as I read more of the issues I have downloaded and become more familiar both with the Wildstorm universe and its characters any discrepancies in the early chapters, including this one, will be taken care of one way or another.

Note 2: This takes place after Season 3 of BtVS when Xander is on his road trip. As for the Wildstorm universe I would say that this occurs about a week after the issue where Tapestry debuted in the WildC.A.Ts comics and about a month or two prior to the events in the mega-title-crossover entitled 'Wildstorm Rising'. I'll do my best to keep the timeline consistent and intact for the three main titles that'll be shown (WildC.A.Ts, Gen 13, Stormwatch) but without an official timeline to follow be prepared for a few mistakes as far as what happens when. If anyone can provide me with an accurate timeline of the Wildstorm Universe involving these three titles I'd appreciate it. Also while there are mentions of several real life people and events in the Wildstorm universe as well as actual dates that the adventures that I will write about happened before BtVS ever went on the air much less around the time that Xander went on his roadtrip I ask you to overlook these discrepancies. I know that the canon mongers will likely flame me for not sticking strictly to how and when things happened in the Wildstorm universe but the way I look at it fan fiction is meant to be flexible on those issues. Fan fiction is like the ultimate 'What If' and as long as the story is good I don't see the point to fussing over details. So if you are one of those people who believe in strictly following canon with little if any leeway then go elsewhere because I doubt you'd like this fanfic.

PS—I know I said I wouldn't start a new fanfic until I had finished at least some of the others but with every issue of WildC.A.Ts or Gen 13 I read I can't help myself from putting the story coming together in my mind on paper (metaphorically speaking of course).

The Family You Never Knew You Had "The Fabulous Ladies" Night Club, Oxnard, California, Midnight 

_This is definitely not how I planned on spending my summer vacation! _Xander thought as he did his last duty of the night which was taking the trash bags and tossing them in the dumpster out back.

He had been in Oxnard roughly a week so far and already he was wishing he had been given another option than working as a busboy/dishwasher/janitor at a strip club. Not that he had been given much choice on account of the car his Uncle Rory had given him had come to a smoking stop just inside the city limits. He had walked to the nearest garage and managed to get the car towed but when the mechanic looked over the car and named the price for the repairs it had left the Xan-man seriously short of cash. So he had gone about town and tried to find some place that had a 'help wanted' sign in the window so he could replenish his travel funds. For two days straight he looked, passing this place by ten times, before he was left with no other choice but to take the 'manual labour' position being offered. In reality it was simply all the jobs that no one else in the place wanted to do and so they dumped it all on his shoulders. Now you might think that working at a strip club might actually be pretty fun especially since there'd be a few hot female strippers doing their thing on stage. Sadly due to the grimy state he tended to be in due to his 'duties' hadn't been allowed to enter the main area of the club but rather had been told to stay in the back and 'do your damn job'. So while all the customers and other male employees got to enjoy the show out front he was left the back doing all the literal dirty work.

_Normally I wouldn't mind as much but this frickin' headache looks like its about to upgrade itself to migraine status soon!_ Xander thought as took a bottle of Advil out of his pocket and popped two pills into his mouth.

It had started about three days after he had left Sunnydale to travel the country in the clichéd road trip style and had been getting steadily worse. If he had to liken it to anything it would be as if he was unconsciously using a muscle that had been paralysed for a while and it was complaining about the sudden workload. For the life of him though he couldn't figure at all what the cause of the headache was. All he could do was keep popping Advil into his mouth to take the edge off while hoping that eventually it would blow over. Otherwise he might really lose it and take it out on his boss and THEN he'd get fired and still be about five hundred dollars short of his goal.

Slamming the lid down on the dumpster he headed back inside to report that his last duties of the day had been completed and that he was heading to 'Lee's Bed and Breakfast' where he'd been hanging his hat for the past week. It wasn't the cheapest place in town but it was the only one that didn't look like half the current tenants were either roaches or rats. It was run by this old couple that were about halfway between being parental age and grandparental age and they were nice enough to give him a little slack if it took him a few more days to get the money to pay for the room. Apparently the husband Mr. Lee had gone on a road trip himself when he graduated from high school so he knew what it was like making it from one side of the country to the other. Mr. Lee even gave a few suggestions on where to go once he earned enough money to drive on out of Oxnard that made a mental note to visit if the places were along his planned route.

Entering the back door to the club he spotted one of the female strippers, Cathy Farson, talking to the manager and from the looks of things something was up. She was looking a little tipsy and dazed on her feet while the manager had this look in his eye that reminded Xander of a similar look that Tony usually had when Baywatch came on TV. Basically it was a caveman leer and a perverted look in his eyes that left no doubt in his mind that the crooked man planned on taking advantage of the young woman. He was definitely not the sort of manager of a strip club that he had thought he'd be working for starting out since he treated his employees either like dirt or just a piece of ass. In fact the only reason most of the employees stayed was because they were in pretty much in the same situation as him in that they were too short on cash to leave. After all once a person met the costs of a place to stay and food on the table for the week and then added on the unexpected extras there really wasn't much to spend on anything else. He was just lucky that he had paid for the repairs to his car using his own money 'cause if he'd had to depend on his salary from the club he'd never leave Oxnard.

"Why don' ya come ta my office an' we can see 'bout ya becoming the headliner for the club?" Mr. Carson asked in a way probably meant to sound caring but came out lecherous, "I'll even see 'bout puttin' a call inta someone I know in Vegas. If ya work hard an' really **suck** in the customers ya could be on yer way to the big time as early as next year."

"I don't know Mr. Carson. I'm not feeling all that good right now." Cathy replied with a slight wobble in her step, "I think the rum in that rum an' coke you gave me has gone bad."

"All the more reason ta come ta my office an' take a load off." Mr. Carson stated trying to add persuasive weight to his proposed course of action, "It ain't safe fer ya ta be out there at this hour 'specially since ya ain't feelin' good."

_It doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell what he has in mind!_ Xander thought angrily as his mind provided him with images of what the sick manager planned for Cathy, _Well not tonight asshole!_

"Don't worry about that Mr. Carson. I'll walk Cathy to her apartment." He said as he walked up to the pair, "It's not far and after dealing with all the gang members on PCP in Sunnydale I think I can handle anything that might be out there."

"Mind yer own business Harris! Can' you see me an' Cathy are trying to do business here?" Carson asked rhetorically in a way that clearly conveyed a warning of what would happen if he didn't get lost.

"Oh I can see that but given that Cath' here is feeling a little under the weather I don't think her head's in any condition to think straight much less talk business." Xander replied acting like he hadn't understood that the manager's question was rhetorical, "Besides I'm sure you two can get together tomorrow and have the 'business talk' then. After all it's not like either of you are going anywhere anytime soon."

"I'm gonna tell ya one more time Harris! GET LOST!" Carson yelled dropping all pretences at being the 'professional businessman.

_Well looks like I got two choices here: a) I can mind my own business and keep my **wonderful** job here, b) I can keep trying to reason with the guy or c) I can grab Cathy and make a run for it before Mr. Sick and Perverted here gets violent. _Xander thought as he went through his options mentally, _Decisions, decisions!_

It was right about then that Carson made things go from difficult to nasty when he reached into his jack for something. It only took a moment of seeing the outline of something gun shaped to make him realise what was about to happen. Acting on pure instinct he charged Carson head on and before the lech could finish pulling the weapon out he delivered a right hook straight to the guys jaw. Now in most cases when one normal teen punched an older guy in the jaw it would only daze the person on the receiving end but given that Xander had been fighting vamps for the past three years his punches had a little more oomph to them. So when Xander-fist A connected with manager-jaw B it was no surprise that the guy got knocked clear off his feet and had a brain on the fritz. However the Xan-man didn't expect that to last long so with a quick 'sorry' to Cathy he scooped her up in his arms and made for the exit as quickly as he could.

They were out the door and past the firs three rows of parked cars before a shot rang out and shattered the windshield of a muscle car they had just passed. Deciding not to see if Carson was a better shot the second time around he dove to the ground while making sure to cushion Cathy as best he could. He could tell from the way her head still lolled about that whatever the prick had given her was still strong in her system but thanks to all the excitement adrenaline was quickly neutralizing it. Unfortunately that was causing her to turn into a frantic and terrified woman who was trying to do the stupid thing by making a run for it. The only thing keeping her from doing so was the firm grip he had on her left arm but giving the crazed look in her eyes he had a feeling it wouldn't last.

"Cathy! You need to **calm down!**" he yelled at her in an attempt to pierce through her fear filled mind, "You won't make it **ten feet** if you try to run! Our only chance is to use the cars for cover and wait for him to go back inside to reload the gun!"

The truth was he was only certain of one thing and that was that by keeping the cars between them and the gun they'd be okay. All the rest was pretty much bullshit since he had no idea if Carson would go back into the club to reload or if the sicko had been smart and had brought some extra bullets with him. Still hiding was the best option considering that running would only get them shot while keeping their heads down might keep them alive until the local police responded to the shots and got their asses over here. Assuming of course that the cops here in Oxnard weren't like the police back in Sunnydale because if that was the case then he and Cathy were doubly screwed. Deciding to take a peek through one of the windows of the BMW in front of him he barely managed to duck back down as a bullet shatters that particular window missing his head by inches. It also unfortunately had the side effect of causing him to instinctively use both hands to cover his face in order to keep any glass shards away from hitting anything vital. This caused him to release his grip on the terrified Cathy Farson's arm and **BOY** did she not waste time taking advantage if that since she tore off down the parking lot towards the diner on the other side of the highway. However given that the lights in the diner were out it obviously wasn't one of those all night diners where there was always someone behind the counter or working in the kitchen. Cathy though didn't seem to care as her mind was apparently just as locked on 'RUN' as his had been on 'HIDE'.

_Damnit! She's a sitting duck out there and judging from that last shot that almost took my head off Carson isn't a lousy enough shot that I can bank on him missing her!_ Xander thought as the first fragments of a plan began to form in his head, _I gotta get him to focus on me instead of her but how? _

Getting to his feet but in a crouch he looked into the car that Carson had just given cheap air conditioning to hoping to find something he might be able to use. It took a little longer than he would've liked but eventually he found the three things that might just discourage the creepy manager from pursuing them any longer. Grabbing the half full bottle of beer, the scarf and the Bic lighter he ducked back down out of sight and began to assemble his little surprise for Carson. A quick stuffing here, a little shaking there and he had an improvised Molotov cocktail in his hand waiting to be lit and light it he did. Then shooting to his feet he took a moment to zero in on Carson before throwing his half-assed weapon in the dickhead's direction. Unfortunately for the manager Xander had been a little too used to lobbing cocktails at vamps so instead of landing a couple feet in front of Carson his muscles had dropped it at the gun wielding man's feet. In a whoosh of flame the Molotov shattered at the man's feet splashing him with beer and providing the flaming scarf with all the invitation it needed to crawl up his legs. Carson screamed in fright as he tried to pat the flames out but his clothes, which were probably the recipients of quite a few spilt glasses of liquor, were entirely too set to burn and so his efforts were in vain.

Shocked and more than a little guilty about what he had done to the man, despite his lecherous ways, he got up and started towards Mr. Carson but as the flames reached chest high the man began to fire his gun wildly in random directions with one shot clipping Xander's leg. With a flash of pain arcing through his left leg he dropped to his hands and knees only able to watch as the flames finished enveloping the crooked strip club manager. Closing his eyes and saying a silent prayer for the man that he had unintentionally killed he looked up a few moments later to see if he could spot Cathy. She had to be coming off the adrenaline rush at the moment and while it may have knocked most of the drug induced tipsiness there would still be some aftershocks. When he finally found her though he muttered a curse he had once heard G-man say during one of the gang's research sessions.

Cathy was lying still in the middle of the highway and while he thought he could see a slight rise and fall of her chest to show she was breathing it was hard to tell from where he was at the moment. For all he knew it was his eyes playing tricks on him but he prayed that wasn't the case and that he wasn't responsible for killing two human beings this night. He got to his feet and while the pain was still intense he'd dealt with worse after some of the beatings Tony had laid on him when he was younger. Pushing the sensation aside he began moving towards her in a brisk jog, not daring to push his injured leg any more than that, he needed to find out just how serious her injuries were. If they were serious he'd break into the diner and call 911 before grabbing the First Aid kit he hoped was located under the counter. If it just turned out to be a flesh wound he'd use his shirt to bandage the wound as best he could before helping her back inside the club to call her a cab.

Fate however had something monumentally different in mind though.

As a particularly sharp jolt of pain raced up his injured leg causing him to close his eyes and stop the sight that manifested before him when he opened was beyond strange. Laid out before him was the normal world as he it had been before he had shut his eyes but there was another world overlaid on top of it. It was like those primitive 3D computer recreations he had seen the courts use on TV to recreate the crime for the jury to see. Every object and surface as far as his eyes could see were wrapped in some kind of blue plastic wrap that outlined the basic shape of what it covered but no real detail beyond what was necessary. Mixed in with the blue wrap though were numerous red ghost-like figures roughly the same height and shape as him moving like the Flash in different directions but all acting in an attempt to get to Cathy. Some were a darker shade of red while others were so light red in colour that he could barely perceive them but just as he began get over the weird sight a solid red form in the shape of a car appeared. It was barrelling down the highway at a speed completely over the posted limit and it was heading for Cathy. He watched as many of the red figures of different shades blinked out of existence leaving only those closest to being solid red behind.

_What the FUCK?_ He thought as he closed his eyes and willed the strange sight to go away.

A minute later he opened them and breathed a sigh of relief when there was nothing but the ordinary world before him. He wasn't quite sure what the **hell** that had been but he decided to write it off as being related to his hurt leg and resumed his job towards Cathy. No more than five steps later a sound reached his ears that caused a feeling of dread to take form in his gut and look up the highway to his left. Barrelling down the grey stretch of highway with four loud and obviously drunk teenagers in it was a car the exact shape of the red one he had seen in that weird vision preview thing a few moments ago. He wasn't sure what was going on but he did know that if things played out the way they did in the vision Cathy was going to be road kill. Deducing that solid red meant 'yes this will happen' in the vision or 'you must do this' he quickly began to follow the path the red Flash figure that was closest to solid had laid out for him.

No longer concerned in the least about his own leg he ran as fast as he could along the path that had been specified by the red figure. Up onto the rooftops of several parked cars it took him as the quickest way to Cathy was indeed a straight line and the automobiles were on top of that straight line. However even as he was getting closer to Cathy so too was the car full of idiots and it didn't look like they had two clues that they were in danger of running over an innocent and maybe injured young woman. This knowledge only deepened his disgust of all drunks and caused him to try and quicken his pace even more. With one final burst of speed he finally reached Cathy and wrapped his arms around her to get her to safety. When he tried to stand up though he suddenly found that his injured leg could no longer support his weight much less his weight and Cathy's. He knew what had happened of course. The blood loss combined with him overworking it had caused it to give out and now it might as well be gone for all the good it was right then.

"Fuckin' HELL! Not NOW!" he exclaimed as the morons driving with Jack Daniels and Jim Beam in their systems continued to drive towards him at a dangerous speed.

It was in the next few seconds that time began to slow and the movement of both his body as well as the car coming towards him slowed. His mind however was working at a slightly faster rate as it scrambled to come with a solution, **ANY** solution, to the current crisis that would let Cathy or the both of them live. One after another though the ideas were shot down as most of them either required more time than he had or needed him to be able to use both of his legs. His mind eventually was forced to concede that there was no way out and that it had best accept its fate. The spirit of Xander Harris though remained determined to prove that this **WAS NOT** the end of everything and that if anyone or anything had a different opinion he was going to make them change it. With all his determination, all his willpower and all his soul he thrust his right hand out towards the oncoming car and voiced his position in one reverberating word.

"NOOOO!" he yelled at the top of his lungs as though to command the gods themselves to obey him.

In the blink of an eye a force was unleashed towards the car and while the truth of the matter was that it had not been caused by a god those who viewed the area afterwards would certainly believe it had been. With a blast of energy, perceivable by only those sensitive of mind, the car that had once been hurtling towards Xander Harris and Cathy Farson flew backwards into the air as though it had been shot from an electromagnetic launch system. It was kind of like the bullet trains in China that rode on E.M rails but judging from the distance the now airborne car was covering without having reached the apex of its ascension yet a bullet train was the slower of the two. The damage done was not confined to just the car though for so unfocused and primal was the release of energy that anything and everything in the general direction the blast was aimed at was affected. The highway was torn to shreds, trees were uprooted and buildings were demolished with all the fury of the most powerful of tornados.

Not that Xander was aware of all this though for with the emergence of this great power his mind reflected the status of his environment perfectly. The only coherent thought, the focus of it all, was eliminating the threat to both him and the one in his arms finally and permanently.

Then, with just as much warning as before, the release of energy came to an end and like a puppet whose strings had been cut Xander slumped to the ground his mind slipping into unconsciousness. For the remainder of his life he would never clearly remember what had happened, how these new abilities of his had surfaced, but there were others sensitive to the raw telepathic and telekinetic energy he had unleashed who would at least have a theory. That was because in the first two seconds after he unleashed his power a psionic shockwave was unleashed as the barrier that had kept the power locked away for so long shattered. Across the globe and even to a lesser degree into space it went letting all who could perceive it know that a new player was now on the field.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

_**Skywatch, Earth Orbit**_

"Ahhhh!" exclaimed Jackson King, also known as Battalion, leader of the U.N sanctioned team Stormwatch One.

He had been in the middle of a debriefing with his team when out of nowhere a wave of psionic energy had rolled over him. It hadn't been anything too dangerous, especially given his training, but given how raw and unfocused it had been he couldn't believe anyone on Skywatch had generated such a wave. Each and every person onboard the station was a consummate professional that had both complete control over their S.P.B power/s and knew how to do their job perfectly. Therefore it was a complete mystery as to what had happened but as the holo-display in the center of the table activated to reveal the Weatherman One aka Synergy he had a feeling he was about to be given a clue.

"Battalion, psi-scanners have just registered a massive telepathic and telekinetic discharge coming from Earth." Weatherman said in a professional and in charge tone, "Stormwatch One is to prep for deployment but remain on standby until we can get a better idea of what or who we're dealing with."

"Do we have the location of the discharge's location?" Battalion asked as he already started to form a strategy in his head.

"Not yet. We know that it originated in California, south of Los Angeles, but due to the interfering radiation from the B.D.I zone it'll take some time to get the precise co-ordinates." Weatherman replied promptly before being handed a data pad by an assistant, "Once the location has been determined Stormwatch One will investigate ground zero and then learn the cause of the discharge. If it is a S.P.B and human then you are to apprehend if possible but terminate if necessary. Also be aware that we expect American agents, most likely I.O Black Razors, to either be there when you arrive or show up soon after. Attempt to co-operate with them but if they try anything cite article 34 of the Skywatch/U.N charter."

"Understood." Battalion stated in a 'YES SIR' manner.

With that the holo-display shut down and King immediately began to fire out orders to his team concerning what weapons and equipment to bring as well as the ground rules once they reached planet-side. Once that was done his mind returned to the implications of what he had been told and what it could mean for Earth whether they succeeded or failed in their mission. It was shocking to think that something or someone was such a powerful psi-talent that their power could be felt thousands of kilometers above the planet. It was also going to mean that once they found the source he and his team would have to act fast or they'd wind up on the receiving end of another discharge like the one that had just occurred. If being hit by it up here in Skywatch was enough to knock the wind out of his sails he didn't even want to think about what it would feel like at close range.

_Looks like it's going to be another one of **those** days._ He thought as he stood up from his chair to follow his team to the armory.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

_**Waering Industries, Earth, Team Designation: Wetworks**_

"Aarrrgghh!" yelled Dane, leader of the special Ops group known as Wetworks, as his mind was assaulted with a storm of psionic energy so potent that only the protection and enhancement provided by the golden symbiote that covered his body kept him from crashing to the ground.

"Dane! What's wrong?" asked the female Cyborg known as Mother One as she ran to his side.

While it was true she had a good idea, like all the other members of Wetworks that were linked together telepathically by their symbiotes, Dane was the only one who had possessed telepathy prior to receiving his symbiote and so was more sensitive than them. All she had felt was a flood of psionic energy causing pain right up there with the worst brain freeze one could possibly imagine. Judging from the look on the face of Dane though what he felt was significantly worse.

"Psionic shockwave of some kind. VERY intense." Dane replied as his symbiote worked to quell the proverbial ringing in his ears left by the shockwave.

"Any idea who or what might have caused it?" Mother One asked professionally once she was fairly certain that Dane was going to be okay.

"No. It was too primal, too unfocused, to gain any clues as to the source." Jackson Dane replied as the last vestiges of discomfort faded, "I just hope that it isn't one of the Night Breed or Craven's projects or we could be in for some serious trouble in the future."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

_**Cabalitto Island**_

"Feeling any better?" asked Sublime, also known as Rachel Goldman, as she watched the leader of her team DV8 sit up in his infirmary bed.

"If by 'better' you mean that I don't think my brain is going to explode then yes." Threshold, also known as Matthew Callahan, replied as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Do you have any idea what happened? I mean one second you were getting on Copycat's case about the last simulator scenario and the next you were out cold on the floor." Rachel asked more than a little concerned given that Matt was supposed to be the strongest member of DV8 given that he was the leader.

"Aside from being slammed by a psionic tsunami not much. Where's Ivana?" Callahan asked as he stood up off the bed.

"In her private office. Some of the real high tech sensors managed to catch a blip of what hit you and when she saw it she went straight to the office and locked the door." Sublime replied looking a little wary as she remembered the look on the C.O of the base's face, "I've never seen her like that before. Whatever it was she saw in those readings it's big."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

_**Black Tours, McLean, Virginia, Office of Director Miles Craven**_

_**One Hour After the Psionic Event**_

Power

In so many ways that one word epitomizes Miles Craven both in what he seeks and what he already has. He is the director of one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful, intelligence agencies in the world. While it may have started off as an offshoot of the C.I.A in 1964 under his leadership it quickly became an agency unto itself with a purpose unique compared to its counterparts worldwide. For him the mandate of protecting the interests of the United States abroad was only performed to pacify the bureaucracy and be utilized to serve his true agenda. That agenda, simply put, was super humans. Over the past few years the world's population had undergone tremendous changes with certain portions of the population beginning to manifest powers and abilities that were as varied as they were devastating. The origins of these powers differed from case to case but it was the results that he considered important. Beings capable of punching through concrete walls with ease, people who could fly through the air without any artificial aid whatsoever and people who could pierce the very sanctity of a person's mind were the facts he was concerned with. It was with the reports of the first few emerging super humans that his appetite was whetted and he set forth to create an army of beings such as these for his own ends.

It was when he stumbled upon Simon Tseng and the baby the scientist had found that possessed abilities that seemed impossible for one so young. Study of the child proceeded apace and eventually the source of the infants powers was revealed. Dubbed the Gen Factor the director of I/O began a series of experiments exposing subjects to this source of super human might but none produced results that could be classified as a success. Still the experiments continued and even with the escape of Dr. Tseng he was still determined to fulfill his plan of an army of super humans. After many failures he decided that perhaps if he exposed the Gen Factor to heartier stock the subjects would survive the changes they'd undergo as a result of exposure. He select his best soldiers, a group classified as Team 7, to be exposed during a mission and later covered up his involvement claiming they had been attacked by the enemy using a new form of chemical warfare. Some members of the team committed suicide while others died simply because their bodies could not endure the strain of their new abilities. Once the weak had been weeded out the survivors were sent out on a mission without knowing that the true purpose of the operation was to test their new powers. They managed to survive but immediately went to ground with the exception of two members.

Eventually they were found and using their loyalty to one of the team members that hadn't gone into hiding, Michael Cray, sent them on a mission that their successors in Team 8 failed to accomplish. Once sufficient time had passed for the soldiers' guards to relax he was free to put into action a secondary agenda besides utilizing Team 7's skills once more and that was the acquisition of their children. Knowing that the Gen Factor had changed the men on a genetic level it was only logical to assume that something might have been passed down to their children. With such malleable young minds at his disposal he had intend to found the first team of his super human army loyal to him and him alone. Unfortunately due to an escape attempt by the residents of level 9 and the manipulation of Jackson Dane the members of Team 7 learned of his plans and immediately went to work putting the babies into hiding. Of all the members of the team only Lynch, Cray and Slayton chose to remain loyal but only on the condition that the children of the remaining members were left alone. In retrospect he probably should have continued pursuit of the other children but then it is always easy to recognize the mistakes you've made years after the event in question.

It hadn't been until the last year or so that he had decided to restart his efforts to produce a super human army. Given the heat from the actions of Team 7 and the level 9 fiasco he had been forced to put the experiment on hold after Lynch and the others had returned. Now though with the appearance of the superhero team Youngblood and the United Nation's own Stormwatch gaining wide acceptance and praise the political and military climate was ripe for a revival of the project. Under the direction of Ivana Baiul young teens from across the country underwent testing for signs of the Gen Factor as well as other genetic anomalies that could indicate extraordinary abilities. Once they had been found they would be relocated to the Project: Genesis compound where they would undergo rigorous testing as well as a covert drug program meant to activate their special abilities. Several promising recruits were discovered but due to a sudden case of conscience Lynch chose to turn traitor and make off with five of the candidates revealed to be the children of Team 7 members by genetic testing. If that wasn't bad enough Baiul also chose that moment to go independent stealing several other possible candidates for his army. In short he had been looted from within and now was forced to make a decision regarding the future of Project: Genesis as to whether to piece it back together or shelve it once more until a more opportune time arose.

**Beep**Beep

"Come." He said as he looked away from the computer screen in front of him to the door of his office.

An I/O agent in a standard issue black suit and tie with black glasses entered the room looking rather nervous. That was to be expected and what he desired of all his subordinates even though it sometimes became something of a bother if it impaired their ability to give an efficient report.

"Sir we've just received a priority zebra call from Agent Anderson." The obscure agent said as he came to a stop a healthy distance from the desk, "He says the subject has become active."

Craven felt a vague sensation of recognition at the name of the agent who called but he needed more information to recall the man's assignment completely.

"Refresh my memory agent. What exactly was Agent Anderson's assignment?" he asked making sure it was in such a way that it sounded like a test rather than a lapse in memory.

"He was dispatched on a surveillance assignment of an unauthorized experiment that was thought to be a failure sir." The Agent responded promptly and efficiently, "I don't know the details of the experiment other than it was codenamed 'Project Foresight'."

Those two words, Project Foresight, instantly brought the information he had been searching for in his mind to the front as though the words had caused the fog obscuring the data to vanish instantly. He now remembered well the failed Project Foresight, the geneticist that had worked on it in secret during the early days after the members of Team Seven went to ground after the level 9 incident, as well as what he had done when the experiment failed to meet expectations. He had been intrigued by the geneticist's idea and had let it progress on the off chance that it might bear fruit but when failure came instead he had the prototype relocated and placed under surveillance. In truth he had not expected to ever hear about it again and being assigned to surveillance of the project was generally considered to be a punishment for some agents or a low stress job for agents recovering from some malady or another. To suddenly find that the experiment had suddenly decided to turn around and become active was a great surprise. A rare thing as he prided himself on being on top of everything that concerned him or his plans but not an unwelcome surprise.

"What are the specifics of the subject's activation?" he asked the Agent knowing that the man would at least have clearance enough to have that information even if he didn't have the necessary pieces to make sense of it.

"Once Agent Anderson reported the activation of the project and location it was quickly connected to a massive psionic event in the same location that our sensors picked up an hour ago." The Agent replied with a bit of curiosity leaking into his voice, "According to preliminary data it appeared to be a discharge of telepathic and telekinetic energy."

"Did Agent Anderson give an explanation as to why it took him so long to report in if the event in question happened an hour ago?" Craven asked as he mentally called up the list of punishments Anderson would face depending on the answer.

"Well… sir… according to Agent Anderson the psionic discharge was so powerful that it demolished several buildings and a piece of flying debris knocked him unconscious." The Agent replied genuinely nervous about his life and career if the director didn't like his answer.

"Hmmmm, impressive. Where is the experiment now?" Craven asked as he decided that he would be lenient with Agent Anderson given the potential of this supposedly failed experiment turning into a success.

"Local law enforcement and emergency response teams are on site at ground zero now sir. The subject appears to be unconscious at the moment so it is expected that he will be transported to the nearest hospital with any others injured in the event." The Agent replied internally relieved that he was apparently safe from the director's wrath.

"Excellent. Tell Santini to dispatch Black Razor's One and Two to the hospital under orders to retrieve the subject and to proceed immediately to our west coast branch." Craven said as he began to make plans to deal with the wild card that had been added to the deck, "Make sure that Santini remembers that I want the subject alive and in relatively good condition. However if there is a risk that forces other than International Operations, any other force, are going to succeed in acquiring the subject then it is to be destroyed immediately."

"U-understood sir." The Agent said since he knew full well what it meant when the director didn't want something to fall into someone else's hand whether they were ally or enemy.

"Then you are dismissed." Craven said and then for dramatic effect he swiveled his leather chair around so that the tall black back was facing the agent.

He waited until he was sure that the agent was gone before he let a light chuckle escape from his lips as he began to envision how this new variable would alter the path of the future.

Interesting times were ahead for all, interesting times indeed.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&


	2. Trouble, Trouble and more Trouble

_**Halo Building, Manhattan, New York**_

_**Seven and a Half Hours After the Psionic Event**_

"Any new information on that psionic shockwave Spartan?" Jacob Marlowe asked as he entered the penthouse computer center.

"Very little I am afraid. Due to the strength of the shockwave numerous agencies and organizations are aware of the event and have initiated full security protocols on information concerning the phenomena." Spartan replied from the main workstation where he was fully hooked into the system via various connections to his data ports, "A prudent course of action consider the estimated strength of the shockwave. I am attempting to gather more information via some of our undercover operatives but it will take some time before they can safely report in."

"I just hope it doesn't turn out to be a new Daemonite weapon 'cause if it is I'm callin' in sick the day you guys decide to go after it." Said the man known as The Grifter a.k.a Cole Cash from a nearby couch as he downed another gulp from the bottle of whiskey in his hand in an attempt to deaden the pain caused when his own psionic abilities sensed the shockwave.

"Possible but unlikely. There has never been a reliable method of generating psionic energy artificially. Only living beings have been proven capable of generating psionic energy in such large amounts." Spartan commented without turning to face Cash.

"Ain't dat th' truth." Came a completely unfamiliar voice from right behind Jacob Marlowe.

Inside of three seconds the owner of that voice found himself on the business end of three guns and two fists capable of some seriously powerful energy discharges. It had been done completely on instinct, the result of long hours of training, and now that they had a chance to get a good look at their target they wondered how much of a threat could a pimp be. With a bowler hat on his head and a suit that looked like a cross between a rumpled Columbo outfit and a pimps threads (due to the color scheme) he didn't look any more dangerous than the rest of the crooks down in the red light district. However that didn't cause the three members of the WildC.A.Ts to let their aim waver in the least or the impression that they'd blow him into wet chunks if he looked at them wrong. They had been around long enough, both independently and as a team, to know that looks could be deceiving and a threat can pop up from where you'd least expect it.

"Who're you and what're you doing in my building?" Marlowe asked angrily as he didn't like the idea that someone could make it this far into the building without setting off a single alarm.

"Name's Whistler and I'm here ta drop all da info ya need on dat big mind blast Mr. Roboto over there is lookin' into." Whistler replied trying to seem nonchalant but keeping a close eye on the weapons trained on him, "The people I work fo' figured dey'd save ya some time an' effort by servin' da info ya need ta ya on a plate. 'Specially since ya ain't got a lotta time to get the kid 'fore that walking corpse at I.O does. If I may?"

The pimp gestured that he wanted to get something out from the inside of his jacket and was obviously smart enough to ask for permission first in order to avoid getting shot to pieces. Looking at Marlowe they both lowered their weapons when the C.E.O of Halo Industries and leader of the WildC.A.Ts nodded indicating that they should allow it. Whistler moved slowly and once he had what was inside his jacket he pulled out a thick brown open-end envelope that looked like it had been stuffed to capacity. With one hand held up in the universal sign of 'do not shoot me' he used the other to hand the envelope over to Grifter who carefully set one of his guns down on the sofa, within easy reach of course, before taking the open-end from the badly dressed man. Getting up from the couch without once breaking eye contact with the bowler hat wearing man he walked slowly towards Marlowe before handing the item to his 'little buddy'. Surprisingly enough the boss man didn't even take a glimpse at the contents but rather intensified his glare at the intruder.

"Aren't ya gonna look at it?" Whistler asked a little surprised and a lot anxious.

"I'll look it over in a bit but how's about you give us the cliff notes version first?" Marlowe asked before making a small show of aiming his Desert Eagle at the man's head.

"Okay, okay, jeez! About seventeen years ago, not long after Grifter here an his Team 7 buddies went ta ground after dat level 9 thing, dat walking corpse Craven made an offhand comment during a department meeting about how it was too bad he couldn't have a full set of Team Seven kids. He even went so far as to say that he'd get a real kick outta turnin' a certain Deadeye's kid against him." Whistler replied trying his best to think before he spoke considering the look on Cole's face, "He wasn't serious of course 'cause of the deal him an' Slayton worked out. But a schmuck geneticist by the name of Dr. Anton Sing thought da director of I.O was bein' serious and dat there'd be a big promotion ta the egghead to make it happen. So dat very week he began ta work towards making the head honcho's wish a reality. Took a couple of tries but he pulled it off."

"You mean I--?" was about as much of the question that Cole could get out in his shocked state.

"Yep! Congrats Cole Cash yer a daddy." Whistler replied with a happy smile on his face.

In the time it took Marlowe to blink four times the man known as Grifter was across the room, had knocked Whistler to the ground and had one of his VAD PP30s pressed to the man's skull.

"You're LYING! This is some sick game of Craven's!" Cole yelled in rage looking ready to turn the man Whistler into a smear on the carpet if the messenger so much as twitched wrong, "What's that monster planning! TALK!"

"Grifter **calm down**." Spartan said as he moved to pull his teammate off Whistler who looked like he might wet his pants any minute.

"Ye-yeah! Listen to the talkin' tin can!" Whistler said as he mentally made a note to take the messenger sensitivity course when he got back to the realm of the Powers that Be, "I ain't lying to ya! Yer kid just came inta his powers seven hours ago and has every major player on dis plane of existence and the next takin' notice. Craven's already sent two Black Razor teams after him an' dem Skywatch people have a team ready ta go an' 're just waitin' for the go signal. So unless ya want someone else ta get ta the kid before ya ya'd better get yer team together an' get movin'."

"I'll contact the others and have MIRV ready for launch in twenty minutes." Spartan said as hew moved back to the computer console to begin sending an alert signal to the various team members both still in the building and in the city.

"I'll see if either Savant or Majestros are still in the building and have one of them get to the kid before anyone else does." Marlowe said as he put his gun back in its holster before heading to the door.

"What the fuck? Don't tell me you believe this guy's bullshit story?" Cole asked in shock since he couldn't believe two of his friends would fall for such an obvious trick.

"While I cannot say I believe his claim as to the source of the psionic shockwave being your son his claims about Skywatch and the Black Razors fit with the preliminary reports that are coming in now." Spartan replied as he managed to talk to Cole and review the incoming reports at the same time.

"In any case if it really is some kid that set off that whopper of a psi-wave then I don't want to take the chance of him falling into the hands of I.O or anyone else who might have be after him now." Marlowe said as he pulled the door to the penthouse open, "Or do you really think that only International Operations and Skywatch felt that tsunami of thought or are in the process of sending people to investigate?"

That was enough to get Cole to react as he got off of Whistler like the guy was a horny Daemonite. Took a few moments before Whistler could compose himself but thankfully he hadn't wet himself so there'd be no need to call the janitor to clean up the place.

"Marlowe's got a point there Cash. The kid's debut will catch the attention of any mind sensitive enough ta pick it up." Whistler said as he got to his feet and tried ridiculously to smooth out his wrinkled clothes, "So even if ya don't want ta believe that the kid is yours do you really want the likes of the Cabal or that Tapestry woman getting their claws inta him?"

Cole storming off towards the door was the only response to the question but it was answer enough for the balance demon and messenger of the Powers That Be. With a fade out effect that would put the best special effects studios to shame he vanished as he still had one more person to let in on the new player on the world stage and he needed to pick up some extra protection for that meeting. Coda warriors tended to gut first and ask questions never.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

_**Oxnard, California, Oxnard General Hospital, Room 206, 8:15a.m**_

_Mmmmmm! He looks so scrumptious I could just eat him right up!_

It was the first thought that floated through Xander Harris's head, it was female, and considering what he had experienced in Sunnyhell it wasn't the most comforting of thoughts. Therefore it can be quite understood that he reacted as quickly and as strongly as he did since things that could speak in his head and talk of eating him generally weren't of the good. Working with that theory as a foundation he did what he normally would when something not human and female got into his head and talked about eating him. He snapped his eyes open and immediately leapt out of the bed he had found himself in and moved away from where he thought the voice was coming from. Two problems however brought all his plans as to what to do after that to a screeching halt as he was overcome with a sudden bout of vertigo and he was wearing a hospital gown. It all practicality most people would think that the former problem more important than the latter. However since he was the Xan-man, school geek and outcast, he was more than a little self-conscious about his looks so walking around in something designed, in his opinion, to moon people was not something he liked one little bit.

"Easy there Blue Eyes!" came a voice almost identical to the one that had been in his head except now it was out loud, "Your in Oxnard General Hospital. Everything's okay! You're safe."

He felt a pair of soft but gentle hands guide him back to the bed and while he wasn't sure he trusted the person the arms were attached to he wasn't in any condition at the moment to do anything about it. With a little wobbling he managed to get back in bed and get his first look at the woman who had helped him. She was dressed in a standard nurse outfit of white blouse and skirt that pretty much confirmed her occupation but not irrefutably. Looking at the person in the uniform he wouldn't count her as being a hottie but she was definitely a sight better than the nurses at Sunnydale General. Slim figure and a pretty smile but no real features that would make her stand out in a crowd or get more than a passing glance from your average male. Still not enough to make him let down his guard just yet but he was no longer planning on making a break for it just yet. Until the vertigo that hit him went away and he got his hands on some real clothes he'd be the good little patient she probably expected him to be. He knew there was an off chance that she was just a normal nurse and he was just in a normal hospital but then again what were the chances of that for him this close to the Hellmouth.

"So? You want to tell me what happened?" he asked hoping that she'd oblige him and fill in the gaps of how he went from the highway outside the club to a hospital bed, "Last thing I remember was trying to pick up Cathy and get her someplace safe."

"Well I don't know everything, Detective Rourke is keeping a pretty tight lid on things, but from what I hear some high tech government plane lost control and came close to crashing." The nurse replied as she began to check his vitals, "Then at the last minute the pilot managed to pull up but the sonic boom or whatever was so fierce it tore up a quarter mile of the highway buildings, trees and all. 'Course that's just my own personal theory given what I've heard about it. Detective Rourke is trying to have it written off as a freak tornado that touched down but I don't know anyone stupid enough to believe that."

"You'd be amazed what people are willing to believe when they don't want to accept the truth." Xander said remembering the various instances of Sunnydale blindness he had witnessed since being clued in on the weird and the demonic, "What about Cathy? Is she alright?"

"The woman they found with you? Well she took a slug to the shoulder and lost quite a bit of blood but according to Dr. Evans she should make a full recovery." The nurse replied as she jotted down a few things on his chart, "Is she your girlfriend?"

"No just someone I work with at 'The Fabulous Ladies' nightclub." Xander replied knowing that the Harris luck having a girlfriend as cute as Cathy was either impossible or doomed to failure.

_YES! Now all I have to do is keep Julie and Nancy out of here and he'll be all mine once Dr. Evans clears him to be discharged! Ooooohhh if he's half as good a lover as he is a looker the I may just have found Mr. Right! Mr. Blue Eyes you are **SO** mine!_

_O-kay! So maybe she isn't a demon but given the way she's talking I'm not sure if it's a step up or a step down from that._ Xander thought as he tried his best not to let on what he assumed she had telepathically beamed into his brain.

Waiting a few moments until she left he tried to piece together what sort of mess he'd been dropped in the middle of this time and how he was supposed to get himself out of it in one piece. Remembering all the important methods from various TV cop shows he knew that the first thing he had to do was lay out all the facts that he could confirm for sure first and then look at the ones he just had hunches about. Fact 1: last night that prick of a manager tried to take advantage of Cathy via an abuse of power and a date rape drug or something. Fact 2: the Xan-man successfully manages to make a break for it with beautiful damsel only to wind up getting shot at by irate prick of a manager. Fact 3: he attempted to hide both himself and Cathy amidst the cars still in the parking lot but she freaked and ran off. Fact 4: he attempted to distract Manager Prick with Molotov cocktail only to wind up killing the asshole due to poor aim. Fact 5: when looking for Cathy had weird super vision episode that warned him that Cathy would get run over by a car full of drunks. Fact 6: using the info from the vision he moved to save her and knew it would be **really, really** close. After that things went completely blurry with nothing being distinct or coherent enough for him to make heads or tails out of. Then there was the whole waking up in this hospital and the bout of vertigo.

_Okay so I know that something weird happened that gave me the plan to save Cathy and now the nurse is saying that something happened that tore up the highway big time. _He thought as he tried to connect the dots and come up with a theory, _Knowing my luck I probably picked up something on my way out of Sunnyhell and it just took this long to get its groove on. _

Then something hit him that he hadn't considered up until then. It had popped up when he tacked on the things that had happened since waking up onto the list of things known for sure. He remembered how back during the last year of school before the graduation mess when Buffy had gotten some kind of demon blood in her that gave her telepathy. From how she described the experience it sounded an awful lot like what he had just experienced with the nurse. That was of the bad. Buffy hadn't had any control over the telepathy and wound up picking people's brains whether she wanted to or not. In fact if Giles' theory had been right she would have gone insane eventually from not being able to block out the thoughts of others. If he had caught something similar then he needed to get back to Giles pronto so he could get whatever he had in him out of him before it did him in. That meant that he couldn't wait until he felt better to leave the hospital since he could literally be racing the clock until whatever had infected him became irreversible. Pushing the covers aside he slid off the bed and onto his feet, taking a moment to let the vertigo pass, before slowly making his way over to the door.

_Better check to see if I'm under guard or something._ He thought as he flattened himself against the wall before craning his neck to look out the pillar shaped window in the door.

He breathed a sigh of relief and thanked his lucky charms when he didn't see so much as a beat cop within twenty feet of the door in the direction he was looking. Crouching down and crab walking under the window he flattened himself once more against the wall on the opposite side of the door he had been on before and looked through the window. No cop in sight in that direction either. Now he was beginning to get a little suspicious since it was rare that his luck was ever this good and when it was it was only a matter of time before he got hit with the bad stuff. Still the longer he stayed in one place the sooner Bad Luck would find him. Better to be a moving target than a stationary one. Waiting a moment until a particularly large group of people came down the hallway he quietly slipped out of his room and took up the rear of that group. Doing his level headed best to look like everything was cool and he was supposed to be out of his room he kept his eyes peeled for a source of clothing he could change into. The good fortune he had of spotting supply closet made him wary since it meant that the helping of bad luck was getting that much bigger in order to keep up with the good luck. Still he decided it was best to keep with the 'moving target' plan in that respect and hope that the Harris luck as a bad shot.

Once inside the closet he began rooting around and quickly managed to find a spare male nurse outfit in the standard sea green color that seemed to be universal to every hospital in the country. Personally he thought they should have chosen a color a little less barf inducing but hey that was how the world is. After slipping on a pair of bone white slippers on his feet he slipped out of the closet and began to head towards the nearest exit. Hopefully since the nurse didn't call him by his real name they wouldn't know where he had been staying while working at the club and he could get his stuff and leave before the local authorities caught on. Keeping his posture and walking pattern casual he eventually came within eyesight of the exit but what he saw touching down outside the hospital froze him in his tracks. They looked like Star Wars stormtroopers with Boba Fett jetpacks and B.F.Gs in hand that looked powerful enough to demolish the hospital all by its lonesome. He didn't stick around to see exactly how many armor wearing soldiers there were instead choosing to head to one of the other exits pronto. He knew that they could be here for someone else, that their arrival had nothing to do with him, but again the Sunnydale paranoia in him knew otherwise. Too many weird things had happened one after another involving him for this final surprise **not to be** related to him in some way.

He was a little over two thirds of the way to the north entrance to the hospital when his good luck ran out and he wondered for the umpteenth time what he had done in a past life to deserve such rotten luck. Just as he was about to enter the final stretch of hallway between him and freedom the person assigned to the P.A system in the hospital put out an alert that he was no longer in his room. A brief description followed but he was no longer paying any real attention as he was determined to be out the door before anyone was able to match the profile being given out to him. He was right at the door, right in front of it, when one of the orderlies that had been at the nearby nurse's station clamped down on his shoulder to stop him from leaving. Not hesitating for a moment he rammed his right elbow into the orderly's stomach before turning around and delivering a left hook hard to the man's jaw. That was when a slice of weirdness happened because instead of the man's head jerking back with the impact of the punch the orderly went flying with the force of the punch until he came into contact with the wall in his flight path. The man fell to the ground and did not move but from what Xander could tell he was still breathing but that did little to help him cope with what had just happened.

_What **the FUCK?**_ He thought as he tried to reconcile the punch he had wanted to give with the one he had just delivered, _What **the HELL** just happened?_

However he wasn't given any further time to think matters through as one of the hospital security officers yelled at him to freeze so naturally the Key Guy for the Graduation explosion did the exact opposite and ran out the door as fast as his feet could carry him. Surprisingly that turned out to be just as above what he had thought he was capable of as the punch that had knocked the orderly into a wall. This turned out to be a mixed blessing because while it did help him put some extra distance between him and the hospital it also resulted in a few nasty spills since he misjudged his leaping and sliding every once and awhile. He was about to start wondering where exactly he was in relation to the bed and breakfast where his things were when Mr. Murphy decided he needed to be punished for not paying proper attention to his surroundings. Dropping down from the sky like the superheroes they definitely looked like was a man and a woman with both of them looking ready to kick his butt if they had to.

"That's far enough lad. Now we don' want ta hurt ye but yer gonna have ta come with us." Said the one that had a flaming ball of light green flame for a head.

"And if I say 'no'?" he asked knowing he was tempting fate by asking but decided everything was already FUBAR so it couldn't possibly get any worse.

"Then things'll be getting' a mite unpleasant for ye lad." Flame Head replied clearly implying that a fight would be the result if he refused.

He was about to inquire just what would happen to him if he agreed to go with him when a trio of the stormtroopers he'd seen dropping down in front of his first exit came around the corner of the alleyway he was in and opened fire. There was no time to duck or to dive for cover so he did the only thing he could do and instinctively brought his arms up and used them as a shield to protect his body. The blasts from the weapons slammed into him and knocked him off his feet and he could feel where on his forearms bruises would likely form in the next few hours. Bringing his arms down to get a better look at what other kind of trouble might be heading his way he was slightly relieved to find that the two people dressed up as superheroes were standing/floating between him and the stormtroopers.

"Stand down! The boy is now in the custody and under the protection of Stormwatch." Declared Ms. Pink Pale in an authoritative manner that almost made him forget about her gorgeous body.

Almost.

"This boy is an American citizen and as such is outside your jurisdiction ma'm." said the soldier on the right who was clearly not going to back down, "I'm going to have to ask you and your partner to stand down and step aside."

"Under article 34 of the Skywatch/U.N charter we are authorized to take into custody seedlings alpha level or higher should they pose a risk to global security." Ms. Pink Pale stated officially as if playing the ultimate trump card, "Given the shockwave the young man set off last night he's easily alpha level, maybe even omega, which means we have final say on the matter."

_Alpha level? **Omega level?** They think I'm some kind of super mutant? _Xander thought using his knowledge of 'X-Men' comics to understand the classifications the woman had just used, _And what was that about me being a 'seedling'? Whatever it means it looks like I just got plunked down in the middle of something big and that means I have to think and think **fast**!_

Deciding he didn't want to become involved in some kind of international law enforcement tug-of-war he used the argument between these Stormwatch people and the stormtroopers to his advantage and made a break for it. With a little luck they'd be so busy trying to take the lead position that he'd get enough of a head start to lose them completely. Exiting the alleyway he could hear the yelling from both of the groups that that he had left behind but ignored them in favor of putting some major distance between him and them. He got about two and half blocks away before something dropped on him from above, slammed him to the ground and knocked the wind clean out of him. Almost before he could understand what was happening whatever had landed on his back had grabbed his right arm and had it twisted around behind his back. Pain zinged up and down that arm as the man, from what he could tell via his sense of touch, briefly put some pressure on the appendage to let him know how easily it could be snapped in half.

"That's far enough freak! You're comin' with me!" growled the male voice in Xander's ear, "Give me any trouble you worthless piece of shit and I'll snap yer arm like a twig!"

_That's **IT!** I am sick of being the universe's piñata!_ Xander thought with a fury as his patience and tolerance for the universe's attitude towards him snapped.

With the power of someone who has had enough Xander's mind set on the task of getting the asshole on his back the **hell** off his back. Then with the force of a car doing eighty miles an hour he mentally tried to will his intentions to be conveyed to the prick talking to him like his drunken parents usually did. What he didn't expect though was for the man to suddenly rear back screaming bloody murder but he wasn't one to pass up an opportunity. Yanking his right arm loose he threw the no longer screeching but still moaning and groaning stormtrooper off his back and to the ground. Getting to his feet he decided to try the one thing he had been avoiding up until now and that was to slip into the local sewer system. It hadn't been a considered course of action up until now because unlike the Sunnydale sewer system he had doubted very much that it was vampire friendly. Also with all the time that the gang spent mucking around in the Sunnyhell sewer system he had a fair grasp of where he was going and where he'd end up when down in them.

That was not the case for Oxnard's sewer system.

Running full tilt so as to avoid getting hit again, boxed in or any one of a number of things the two groups pursuing him might try, and after four twists and turns finally spotted a manhole cover. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd get the cover off, get down into the sewer and slide the cover back into place but he was hoping that some of the strength he'd used on the orderly earlier was still around. He was about ten feet away from it when out of nowhere the door to a boarded up shop whipped open, a pair of slender arms zipped out and dragged him inside said abandoned shop. It had all happened pretty fast and he hadn't even had time for vulgarities that were usually apropos in situations like this. The arms released him and he turned to see who exactly decided to take it upon themselves to decide his future for him this time only to have some kind of weird techno headband place on his head. It was then that he finally got a look at his kidnapper and for a moment wondered just how young the two groups chasing him went for recruits.

"Take it easy kid! I'm here to help ya." The young blond girl said who looked to be barely in her twenties, "The name's Savant. What's your name?"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

_**MIRV, Flying Over Colorado, Two Hours Later**_

_Amazin' how one little package can turn your world from 'just the way I like it' to 'what the **HELL** happened'. _Grifter thought as he continued to skim through the contents of the package that the pimp messenger Whistler had delivered.

After he'd blown off some steam at his world being turned upside down again he'd come back to find that Marlowe had managed to convince Savant to use her seven league boots to run ahead and keep Alexander safe 'til they got there. Like the observant type she is Pris asked why they didn't just have Void 'port them in like they usually did and the answer was some sort of science crap about interference from a dimensional tear nearby. Accordin' to Void trying to teleport long range too close to the tear could either kill all of us or send us to another dimension so it was no surprise when all protests about using MIRV died down. She said that she might be able to attempt short-range teleportation once they got there but it was a **big** if at that. That was two hours ago and he'd been splitting his time between making sure all his gear was in workin' order and lookin' over the contents of the package. About three quarters of it contained notes and journal entries by Doc Sing but the rest was a collection of bits and pieces about his son.

_My son. Man! Still can't get used to that idea! _He thought as he tried to cope with the shock of going from bachelor to daddy in the space of a couple of hours.

True Alex wasn't strictly speaking his son, not in the traditional sense, but at the same time he was considering that a third of him was one hundred percent Cole Cash. That was one of the first things that had been discovered when Spartan had slipped a CD from the package into the MIRV's computer. According to the files contained on it Alexander was composed of DNA from three separate sources with the remaining ten percent coming from some unknown source. Aside from clearly mentioned getting a hold of some of his own blood from his time with Team 7 the other 'donors' were just given number-letter combinations to identify them. One was KLZ97828, another was WLN66362 and the last one was labeled SJS19002000. Aside from that there was nothing to really identify who the 'mothers' (yes it turned out that two thirds of the boy's code was female. Sing apparently did major tinkering to make sure the baby turned out a guy) were but he figured those answers could wait until they got back to the HALO building. Still, mostly because it was easier for him to understand, Alexander LaVelle Harris was his son and there was nothing anyone could say or do to change his mind about that.

Looking at the personal data, obviously written by Whistler, it was clear at first glance that quite a bit of info had been edited out. Whether that was because the pimp was trying to hide something from him or just felt the missing info should be laid out when he and his kid were face to face he didn't know. What personal info there was though was enough to give him a couple more reasons to want Craven and this Doc Sing dead. According to Whistler's notes Alexander had been shipped off to some wash out I.O agent that had been laid off back in 1980 and had some skeletons in his closet that Craven had the keys to. Things had started out well enough but the jackass and his wife quickly lost themselves in Jack Daniels and Jim Beam transforming them from losers to drunk and abusive losers. For the next fifteen years they treated Alex like crap and from the hospital records mixed in with Whistler's personal commentary they'd almost killed the kid a couple of times. The bad home life reminded him of his own troubles with his step-father back in the day and it made him wonder if Alexander ever thought about running away like he did. Probably not 'cause while he hadn't had any real friends growing up with his step father Alex had two and that was apparently enough to see him through the rough patches. The kid's school records showed him to have been a barely passable student but on the plus side at least he did manage to graduate from High school and that was more than he'd ever managed.

Aside from that bit of info about his academic record there wasn't much else added to the personal data Whistler had included in the package. The last few sheets of paper were more about the town itself and there were enough things off about the place to make his mind itch. The number of deaths in the small town south of L.A was almost as bad as the City of Angels itself but he hadn't heard anything about Sunnydale during his time in I.O or from any of the sources he'd picked up since tossing his resignation in Craven's face. It didn't make sense! A place that had people dying as though they were in a war zone didn't just escape the notice of the rest of the country like this! Either someone was going to a lot of trouble to keep what went on in the town quiet or the people who knew what was going on were ignoring the town on purpose. Either way it meant that for his entire life Alexander had been dancing on the edge of death without knowing it. The concept scared him more than he thought he could be considering he had just learned of his son's existence two hours ago. It made him want to tell Spartan to push MIRV's engines even harder, past their recommended limits, just so he could get to his kid as soon as possible. He knew that Savant was with Alex and that she'd keep him out of trouble for the most part but with Black Razors there and Stormwatch he knew it'd only be a matter of time before the two of them were backed into a corner.

_If so much as one of those $$holes have hurt Alex I'll make sure they're spitting lead for a year! _He thought angrily as his concern over his son's safety provokes feelings in him he had never experienced before.

"Do not worry brother Grifter. Savant may have not chosen the path of a warrior as I would have wished but she has a keen mind." Zealot said placing a passably comforting hand on his shoulder, "She will keep your son safe until we arrive."

"I hope so Zealot, I hope so." Grifter responded as he began to look over the information that came in the package once again just to have something to occupy his mind.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

_**Across the Street From "Lee's Bed and Breakfast", One Hour Later**_

"All clear?" Xander asked as he kept himself hidden behind the dumpster while his blonde friend Savant peeked out from the alley they were in to see if there were any pursuers in the area.

"For the moment but don't expect it to last." Savant replied as she thoroughly checked in every direction, including up in the sky, for signs of Stormwatch or the Black Razors, "With you pulling a disappearing act three hours ago they have to be combing this town top to bottom looking for you. So let's get your precious stuff and move on!"

"Hey! Like I told you when we started heading this way: they don't know who I am beyond a face and I'd like to keep it that way." Xander said hoping to head off another rant about how irrelevant his stuff was before it started, "If their half as smart as I think they are it won't take them long to find out where I've been staying since I started working at the club. No way am I letting them look through my things and trace me back to Sunnydale and my friends."

"I doubt they'd do anything to them. After all you're the one they want." Savant said as the two of them began to make their way across the street.

"Maybe they will, maybe they won't but I'm not taking any chances." He said as he unconsciously did the gentlemanly thing and opened the front door of the place for the young woman, "Besides there's no telling when your 'friends' are going to get here and I have some stuff that might increase our odds of staying in one piece until they get here."

She gave him a weird look for the whole 'open the door for a lady' thing but he barely noticed since most of his concentration was focused on getting to his room fast. Fortunately neither Mr. Lee or his wife were at the front desk because he certainly didn't want to spend the next fifteen minutes why stormtroopers and superheroes were asking about him. After going up one flight of stairs and down a hallway they arrived at his room and just as he was about to reach for the doorknob Savant grabbed his hand to stop him. All she gave in terms of an explanation was the universal 'quiet' gesture with her pointing finger pressed to her lips.

"Hello? Housekeeping!" she said after knocking on the door twice.

When there was no answer at all both he and Savant concluded that it was unlikely that there was anyone in the room waiting for them and opened the door (after judicious use of his foot since he no longer had the key to the room). Walking in he headed straight for where his suitcase was and quickly picked out a change in clothes since they'd let him blend in a bit easier than walking around in male nurse clothes. He also picked up his gym bag which held a few 'odds and ends' he had decided at the last minute to pack just in case he ran into trouble on his road trip. While he had been of the opinion that away from the Hellmouth the chances of him needing said 'odds and ends' was unlikely but at the same time he knew the Harris luck was still with him. So going into the bathroom to change he figured he might as well go all out and strap everything he could since he'd probably need it if he expected to stay free for much longer. Slipping on a pair of jeans he thought once more on who exactly Savant was and why she was helping him. It was the first thing he had asked her after he had decided she wasn't his enemy, yet, and all she had told him was that an unknown relative of his had heard about the trouble heading his way and had sent her to keep him safe 'til he got there. He'd tried to get more out of her but she had pretty much ignored him or tried to change the subject.

One of her attempts at rerouting the conversation had been to explain the techno headband she'd placed on his head. Apparently, according to her, he was some kind of ESP guy and the headband was to try and muffle some of the mind energy he was unconsciously leaking all over the place. She had said it wouldn't get rid of the leakage completely but it would turn him from a search light to a pen light in the eyes of the sensors both Stormwatch and the stormtroopers were using. Basically they'd have to walk within ten feet of him in order to pick up anything definitive and he figured by then it would already be a moot point. Pulling a black short-sleeved shirt on his mind swayed back onto the subject of the mysterious relative that somehow had the resources to tap the phones of both the stormtrooper's C.O and those Stormwatch people. He didn't pretend to even begin to understand who his pursuers were but if their gear and appearances were anything to go by they were professionals. That meant that this relative of his was either one of them or had a few contacts on the inside that tossed him a bone every now and again. Whatever the case it didn't change the fact that he was in a tough spot and the only one who was willing to let him have any say in his future circumstances was Savant and the person she represented. That meant he would follow her lead for the time being but that didn't mean he trusted her all that much. Until he knew more about this unknown relative of his he'd treat everything she said and did with a little bit of suspicion.

_Hopefully if she turns out to be a problem these two bad boys will be enough to make her back off. _He thought as he brought his two desert eagle handguns out of the gym bag.

Desert Eagles packed one helluva punch and you generally had to be built like Arnold to fire one and not mess your hand up with the recoil. Fortunately though all the time he'd spent with the Scoobies battling the forces of badness had given him quite a bit of muscle and while not Terminator sized it was enough to handle the Eagles' recoil. They also were powerful enough to do some major damage to whatever they were aimed at even if it was a demon. Slipping the two hand cannons into their holsters and then slipping the shoulder harness on he moved on to the next piece of his arsenal which was a sawed off double barrel shotgun. It didn't have much in the way of range but it was an excellent way to clear a path through a gang of vampires and certain weaker demons. Slipping the weapon into its holster he strapped it to his back and made to tie on the last weapon in the bag a short sword he'd **borrowed** from G-Man's armory. It was true that he wasn't very good with it but he figured that he might need something sharp if a vamp he bumped into was too tough to stake. As for where he'd put it that was where the final article of clothing he'd taken into the bathroom came in. Slipping the tanned duster jacket on he slipped the short sword sheath and all into a little pocket he'd sown into the coat making sure the weapon was nice and snug. He'd gotten the idea from watching Christopher Lambert in the Highlander movies and decided to rig something similar for himself. It was relatively new so he hadn't had a chance to actually use it against any demons or vampires but he figured now was as good a time as any for a field test.

He stepped outside of the bathroom and the moment Savant laid eyes on him her jaw dropped in shock and she seemed to just stand there for a few moments looking at him. He'd pretty much expected this since it was a little strange for a guy to go into a bathroom to get dressed and come out looking like he's ready for urban warfare. However what she did next caused him nothing but confusion and a little bit of concern as she broke down into a fit of giggles. Not exactly the reaction you'd expect a young woman to take when looking at a man armed with weapons capable of blowing her pretty little head off.

"Care to share the joke? Cause I could use a good laugh right about now." He said as he tried to figure out what could be so funny about his new duds.

"It's just that… **giggle**… you look like your relative dressed like that." Savant replied once she managed to get control of herself.

Not sure exactly how to take that since he didn't know the guy he decided to put it on his mental shelf with everything else he didn't want to think about right that second.

_Razor One to Razor Two. Sensor spikes confirm target is in the room._

"What the…?" he began to ask as a male voice echoed in his head, like the voice of the nurse before, but muffled slightly

_Roger that Razor One. Prepare for a hop and pop._

"Shit! We gotta get outta here **NOW!**" he yelled since he was certain he was picking up real thoughts from a real person.

_SHIT! He picked us up somehow Boss!_

_All units move in! Take him down!_

Xander barely had time to get a grip on his two Desert Eagle hand cannons before chaos broke out in the form of stormtroopers crashing in through the window and beating down the door at the same time. Surprisingly enough Savant didn't linger in the land of the surprised for long and started using some good moves on the troopers coming in through the door. However as he turned to take on the ones entering via the window it was clear to him that the blonde was no warrior. She may have been related to one and learned a few basic moves but nothing more than that which meant he had a few minutes tops before the troopers' superior experience and skills took her down. Freeing his Desert Eagles completely from their holsters he took aim at the stormtroopers who had just gotten their bearings after crashing through the window and fired. Knowing from his soldier memories and predicting the way his luck would turn that there'd be body armor around all the vital areas he took care to shoot for lesser areas like joints, hands and feet. After all they'd have to be flexible in order for the pricks to move right? By his logic if they were flexible then there was also a good chance any armor placed there was weaker than in other places. His theory was proven right when a shot from each hand cannon pierced the shoulders of the troopers that had come through the window and actually knocked them back a couple of steps. Deciding to use the opening to his advantage he aimed lower and fired a two shots into the legs of the two stormtroopers in order to make sure that they were out of the fight for the time being.

Turning he saw that Savant had done quite a bit better than he'd thought she would as one trooper was down, on was getting his clock cleaned and the last one couldn't get a clear shot with his pal in the way. That would change since he knew the second the blonde woman's current sparring partner was down the last one would open fire before she could do much of anything. He had to do something before that happened but he was clueless since there was nothing his Sunnydale adventures or his soldier memories possessed that could help him out in this situation. Well aside from the obvious move of bringing his hand cannons up and waiting for the exact moment when both the goon and Savant were out of the way before firing. Unfortunately he doubted that the final trooper would take even half the amount of time he would in picking his shots. More than likely the asshole would just let out a spray of bullets and hope he hit something and he most likely would since there wasn't a lot of room for dodging. It was then that a part of him knew that the dominant personae in control was clueless and decided to step in.

Just like it had when he had seen Cathy in the middle of the highway before his vision went wonky with inanimate objects turning neon computer blue and living people becoming solid red. Numerous pre-images of himself moved about the room within his field of vision and just as in the last bout of super vision they differed according to shade of red. Some had him going the obvious route while the others went for movies that looked like something straight out of an action movie. The option closest to the solid red that signified the most likely option to succeed had him groaning as it would take a miracle for it to work on the first try. Still, with time running out, it was all he had. Bringing up both Desert Eagles he started firing like there was no tomorrow in an effort to carve a doorway shape into the wall to the right of the actual door. When ammo ran out he used his thumbs to eject the empty clips and slipped in two fresh ones as quickly as he could without screwing it up. Once the clips were in he fired three more shots from each and charged the spot where he hoped to make a new door ramming into it with his shoulder. It wasn't the most graceful success since he almost lost his footing but he did succeed in breaking through into the hallway so it counted as a success in his mind. Bringing his Desert Eagles up he found he had no time to properly aim them as the stormtrooper he'd been worried about was bringing the AK-47's big brother to bear on him. Going for broke he decided to pull a Neo and started emptying his hand cannons at the guy while doing his best to be a moving target despite the fact that the hallway was barely big enough for two people to walk shoulder to shoulder down. Fortunately while the body armor was enough to keep the bullets from doing any permanent damage there was enough force behind them to leave some bruises and maybe crack a rib.

Reaching the actual door he looked in to see Savant delivering one final right hook to her opponent's head putting him down for the count.

"Grab my stuff and let's go." He said while glancing up and down the hallway, "I doubt that these Black Razor guys are it."

"You know who these guys are?" the blonde asked as he picked up his suitcase and exited the room.

"Kinda. Right before they made with the dramatic entrance I think I heard their thoughts and they called themselves Black Razor One and Two." He replied hoping she didn't think he was a total space case for thinking something like that.

"Let's get moving then. Black Razor teams are usually made up of at least four people." Savant declared as she began to head in the opposite direction of the main entrance, "Not to mention they probably have air support en route as we speak."

_O-kay then! Maybe she's the space case and I'm the sane person. _He thought as he followed her lead since he didn't have a better plan at the moment.

Reaching the back door as quickly and as stealthily as possible it took them ten minutes but once they opened the door they found they might as well have come down singing 'Born in the U.S.A'. Arrayed out in front of them, some hovering in mid-air while others stood at strategic points in the rear parking lot of the B&B were the two Stormwatch people he'd encounter earlier as well as a few of their friends. Standing in front of the group was an African American wearing a techno suit that made him look like a football player of the future in his opinion. Armed with high tech guns that he **prayed** weren't as powerful as they looked he looked ready to give the 'we can do this the easy way or **MY** way' line any minute. Behind him and to the right as well as up in the air was the blonde chalk skinned woman in the sexy pink outfit he'd encountered earlier. Behind the football player but to the left was something that looked like a picture of a stone golem he'd seen in one of G-Man's books and was likely the powerhouse of the group in front of him. To the left of Mr. Mountain was the Sir Flame Head who had been with Ms. Pink earlier hovering in the air and looking ready to kick ass if necessary. Going back over to Mr. Touchdown's right providing support for Ms. Pink was a redheaded woman in a red-orange bodysuit with shiny metal accessories. The last one was probably the most normal looking of the group but that just made Xander all the more wary of him. With white hair that he bet wasn't fake like Spike's and blue bodysuit with green vest combo he seemed the least hostile of the group and that only made the Xan-man's spidey-sense twitch.

"I'm impressed with how quickly you and your friend managed to take down five Black Razors without killing them son." Mr. Touchdown said with genuine admiration, "But this is where it ends. Drop your weapons and surrender. I promise you won't be harmed and once everything gets straightened out you'll be released."

It really did sound like the guy wanted to do right by the former Key Guy but given that there seemed to be a jurisdiction war going on between this man's team and those Black Razors he didn't like the odds concerning Mr. Hail Mary's ability to keep his promise. Unfortunately there weren't a lot of options left open to him and he doubted **very** much that even his weird tactic-vision thing could get him out of this situation. Not only did this group look like a real life version of the Justice League but also both of his previous successes dealing with the stormtroopers were more luck or chance than actual skill. If push came to shove he knew all he'd get for throwing down with these guys was a cruise ship full of pain and maybe a prison sentence. So he decided to do what he usually did in situations like this: pray to the higher powers and hope for a miracle!

"Don't make promises you can't keep tough guy!" came a gravelly guy voice from above about two seconds from energy blasts started raining from the sky.

Looking up he saw a big ass aircraft flying past overhead dropping what looked like his miracle as it went by. Composed of seven people, three women and four men, his own personal cavalry came down from the ultimate high ground catching Mr. Quarterback and his team completely by surprise. Due to this fact Mr. Golem was knocked for a loop early on by a guy that made him look like a midget by comparison wearing a green and purple outfit with bull horns sticking out of his back. Ms. Pink and flame face were next to go down when red armor wearing version of Xena drop kicked the chalk faced woman and a guy he bet was his unknown relative laid down concentrated fire on Mr. Matchstick. That was when the element of surprise wore off and Mr. Football's team got their act together and that meant things got explosive real quick. Mr. Golem counterattack and punched his sparring partner into a row of cars rendering numerous guests at the B&B without a means of transportation in seconds. Red Xena also began to face some problems as both Ms. Pink and Ms. Spitfire double-teamed her but thankfully the white haired woman quickly received back up from the T-1000's cousin. All in all though what he saw before him made him hope that Mr. Lee had some serious insurance or else his bed and breakfast business was going to become a vacant lot.

"Void! Get Alexander and Savant to MIRV!" Mr. Titanium-pole-up-my-butt ordered as he led the rest of his team against Mr. Blitz's people, "It should be close enough for you to teleport them!"

"Acknowledged Spartan." Said a woman that looked like the T-1000's better looking sister as she touched down behind him and Savant.

"Teleport? What're you—" was all Xander could get out before his world went pink and he suddenly found himself in the cockpit of a high tech plane where some little guy sat at the controls with a lit cigar in his mouth.

"Welcome aboard the MIRV kid!" Mr. Shorty said like he was welcoming him to some expensive gala affair, "Void do you think you can 'port back and grab the others?"

"I will try but the interference from the dimensional tear is considerable." Ms. Shiny Steel replied sounding a little fatigued.

"Just do your best 'cause in five minutes we're going to have three Black Razor gun ships breathing down our necks." Mr. Little Buddy stated as he hesitated a moment before flicking a few switches and pressing a few buttons.

_It's almost like he doesn't quite know how to—_Xander thought as he continued to watch the unsure man work, _OH SHIT! He doesn't know how to fly this thing!_

It was almost enough to make him wish he was back down with Mr. Linebacker's people right then.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&


	3. Tests and their consequences

HALO Corporation Building, Five Hours Later 

"I swear, I get stuck with one more needle, I am going postal and turning this entire floor into rubble!" Xander muttered as he exited the med-lab, where he had just spent the last thirty minutes having samples of every part of his body taken for 'in-depth analysis'.

They had gotten to their destination about forty minutes ago and that surprised him considering they had been in California five hours ago. Still, considering MIRV looked like something straight out of the comic books, he supposed that with sufficiently advanced tech a coast-to-coast trip in that amount of time was possible. It had been a pretty tense hour after the rest of this superhero team had teleported back onto the MIRV and hauled ass out of Oxnard. According to a guy that seemed even more stiff than Data from 'Star Trek: The Next Generation', they had to be careful not to lead either Stormwatch or the Black Razor teams back to their HQ. Both possible pursuers were apparently the top two most powerful agencies on the planet and there were few that could beat them or escape from them once pursuit began. Fortunately with the resources of one Jacob Marlowe, C.E.O of the HALO Corporation, they were riding in a state of the art aircraft chock full of stealth tech and some seriously powerful engines for speed. So in the end they managed to shake off what pursuit there was and get back to WildC.A.Ts HQ in one piece. He had been a bit mystified why they'd name themselves after a sports team but apparently the C.A.Ts portion of the name stood for 'Covert Action Team' with the 'wild' put in front to imply that they weren't working for any nation, organization or group. He'd tried to ask what or who they were fighting against but Shorty, as he liked to call Jake Marlowe, said they wanted to get back to base and check him out before they spilled any big secrets.

_Understandable but **BOY** did it make for one long and awkward plane ride!_ He thought as he headed towards the living room where they told him he should go after finishing up in the lab.

Still, he'd managed to at least get their codenames out of them and that would make communicating with them easier. First up was Mr. 'Titanium Rod Up My Butt' or Spartan as the others called him and he was the designated field commander, making him second in command to Shorty. Judging from the wires he had sticking out of him on MIRV, he was either a cyborg or a robot but the Key Guy couldn't really decide which at the moment. Next up was a woman that would make Xena look laid back and lazy, which was saying something considering he pretty much considered the Warrior Princess to be a deadly and ruthless she-devil when provoked and a professional warrior the rest of the time. Decked out in a modern/ancient combo of blood red armor consisting of a torso piece, knee high boots, shoulder pads and gauntlets, she made for an intimidating sight and that was **before** you took into account the fact that she was a complete hottie. Then came the next in line and that was a guy codenamed 'The Grifter' and judging from the similarities between their outfits, he assumed that this masked man was the relative Savant had been telling him about. He looked the most normal of the group with an outfit that would allow him to blend into the crowd once he ditched the red mask with the black eyes. His memories from the solider costume at Halloween, however, told him this guy was an elite soldier that could probably take on ten heavily armed men single handed and win. Next up was a guy that definitely looked like some kind of cyborg with metal tubes criss-crossing his chest and metal hands that had been sharp metal claws when the WildC.A.Ts tackled Stormwatch. His codename was Warblade and it was easily the most obvious of the codenames thus far given his abilities. The guy capable of being mistaken for a purple and green house was codenamed Maul and he was definitely the muscle of the team. The woman he'd called the T-1000's better looking sister was codenamed Void and had this weird five-at-once voice that gave him the wiggins. Lastly there was this bronze skinned young woman called Voodoo, who was probably the closest to him in terms of age but still a couple of years ahead of him. She was definitely friendly enough and definitely easy on the eyes if he was any judge but given how she'd blushed a little bit after that thought first passed through his head, he wouldn't be able to look at her for awhile without being completely tongue tied and embarrassed.

In any case they might not have been the X-Men, but they were definitely the good guys since they were allowing him to walk around without an escort and had been pretty polite to him from the beginning. Not that that was going to get him to completely lower his guard around them, but it was enough to persuade him to give them the benefit of a doubt until they tried something fishy. As he approached the doors to the living room he reached up and scratched an itch beneath the techno headband Savant had put on him that kept coming back no matter how many times he scratched it. According to Spartan, until he managed to get a grip on his telepathy he'd have to wear the headband in order to keep from being picked up on the Stormwatch and I.O sensors. Who exactly would be teaching him how to do that was still up for debate with the only name that kept coming up was some guy named Slayton, who had experience training S.P.Bs (Super Powered Beings). However Grifter was vehemently against that and made it clear he hated the guy's guts and didn't trust him not to betray them to either I.O or Skywatch. The others pointed out that, aside from Voodoo, there was no one among the WildC.A.Ts skilled enough with telepathy to train him and she was still a novice herself. Add to that the fact that she had just been placed back on active duty after recovering from a serious head injury and she wasn't in any shape to teach him anything. So it was looking more and more like this guy Slayton was going to be the one to teach him to keep his mind under wraps.

_Assuming, of course, Grifter isn't right about him and the asshole doesn't turn me over to the bad guys first chance he gets._ Xander thought morosely as he opened the door and stepped inside.

"So kid, they done with you?" Marlowe asked conversationally with a cigar in his mouth.

"Let's just say that if you want me back in there for any more tests, you're going to have to tranq me first." He replied before sitting down in the closest available seat, "Painless tests **my ass!**"

He knew he was probably breaking about a dozen politeness rules and protocols a courteous guest should follow when in someone else's home, but at the moment he didn't care. At that moment his opinion of scientists, doctors and places of healing was at about the same level as Snyder had been, so he figured he could be excused for not curbing his tongue as much as he probably should.

"Don't worry Alex, none of us much like them either but the docs and the eggheads know their stuff so if they let you go then they got everything they need." Grifter said with a smile that told everyone he liked Xander's personality.

"It shouldn't take them more than a couple of minutes to come up with the results we're looking for, so I figure we can use that time for a two way Q&A session." Marlowe said with a smile that didn't waver in the slightest.

"Cool. I'll go first since I'm the guest here an' all." Xander said wanting to get a little more info on these guys before revealing anything about himself, "First thing I gotta ask is why exactly did you guys save me back in Oxnard? I mean I'm grateful and everything, but somehow you don't strike me as the type to rescue strangers."

"Well… I guess you could say we're… related Alex." Grifter said, sounding unsure of how exactly to phrase his response.

"Not a close one, otherwise I'd have seen you at one of the few Harris family reunions and you strike me as the kinda guy to be the center of attention when drunk." He said, not entirely believing the guy's answer, despite the fact that he made it a point to be elsewhere whenever the Harris Clan got together in one place.

"Unlike those smashed bastards that've been raising you the last eighteen years, I know when to say when." Grifter said rather angrily at the implication of being labeled a drunk, "Besides, my name is Cole Cash and I'm about as much a member of the Harris family as you are kid!"

"What are you talking about? I think that the fact that I've been living in the Harris household and have the name Alexander LaVelle Harris is pretty convincing proof that I am a Harris," he said, not liking the crazy talk that was coming out of this guy's mouth.

Pulling down the red mask to reveal a guy in his mid to late twenties, Grifter pinched the bridge of his nose looking like he'd spilled some info he hadn't intended to just then. It was then that Shorty decided to step in and save the relative from his own lack of tact.

"You'd be surprised what you can have put together for the right price." Marlowe said as took the cigar out of his mouth, "As for why we saved you, I'd say the power you now have at your fingertips is reason enough. When your telepathy and telekinesis switched on for the first time it unleashed a shockwave that rolled over the entire planet and quite a ways into space. That pretty much makes you one of the most powerful S.P.Bs on the planet right now."

Xander didn't much like the fact that this 'power' he was supposed to have was a major reason behind his rescue or that it put him in the top five in terms of raw power. Still, he couldn't deny that he did have some power now and quite a bit if the nurse's description of the damage outside of the Fabulous Ladies Nightclub was accurate. Sadly, that meant that he now had a big bulls-eye on his back, since people with power were either destroyed because of what they might do or manipulated because of what they could do for some person or organization, something he'd definitely have to keep an eye out for with these guys because, points in their favor aside, they could fall into either category easily.

"Now that we've answered a few of your questions, how about answering some of ours?" Warblade asked rhetorically before giving his real question, "Like for instance… what's with the guns you had on you?"

"I was going on a road trip and figured it'd be a good idea to carry some protection, just in case." He replied half truthfully as he looked at Knife-boy right in the eyes warning him not to push too hard.

"And the sword?" Zealot asked in a tone that said she was interested in hearing his response.

"Sometimes a big blade can scare off the crooks and the crazies better than a gun." He replied looking at her for a moment before turning away from her intense gaze, "Given that you're packing one, I'd think you'd know that."

"Indeed I do." She said in what was probably intended as neutral voice but came out as a chilly warning.

"What I'd like to know is: what made you shoot a new door into the wall of your room?" Savant asked from her position over by the refreshments table.

"Would you believe I was shown all the different ways I could beat them and that was the one most likely to work?" He asked, not sure how they'd take his environmental precognitive ability.

For a moment they just looked at each other and he pretty much expected them to start laughing at him for saying something so spaced out crazy. To his surprise, though, all they did was shrug and nod their heads like it was a perfectly feasible response, all things considered. Well Voodoo, Maul, Warblade, Savant and Jacob Marlowe shrugged while Spartan and Zealot just raised an eyebrow or scrutinized him with even greater care. It seemed almost bizarre, but then he took into account their outfits, the powers he'd seen them use so far and the sort of lives they must lead. Looking at all that, he could see how an environmental precog wouldn't be all that surprising or impossible to them. Just as it looked like another question would be asked, the door behind him opened up to admit the lead scientist/doctor that had been in charge of the sample extraction from earlier.

"That was quick, Susan. You have the results already?" Marlowe asked with only minimal surprise in his voice.

"Not all of them Mr. Marlowe, but I figured you'd at least want the DNA test results back as soon as possible so I put a rush on them." Susan replied before pushing her glasses a bit higher up on her nose in a way reminiscent of G-Man, "Actually I ran the DNA tests three times just to make sure that the results were correct and they came back the same way each time."

"So what do they say? Don't keep us in suspense, Susan." Jacob said actually sounding like he was looking forward to the results.

"The claim made in those papers you gave me earlier have been confirmed Mr. Marlowe. One third of this young man's DNA is without a doubt that of Mr. Cole Cash a.k.a The Grifter." Susan declared with complete certainty.

On the part of The Grifter, this news was a mix of relief and joy but from Xander's point of view it sent his world rolling into chaos as he tried to process what had just been spoken in the room. According to what he knew about genetics and that stuff, DNA was passed down in halves and quarters but not thirds. True, he barely managed a passing grade in his biology classes, but even that caveman jock Larry would know something as basic as that. So what was up with what this science lady was saying? It was then he recalled the two things that both Jacob Marlowe and Grifter had said earlier before hastily moving onto their part of the Q&A session. Grifter had claimed that he was as much a Harris as the Xan-Man was and Marlowe had implied that there were quite a few things that were possible if you had the greenbacks for it. Combining those two statements led him to one very disturbing and perhaps even earth shattering possibility that his heart and soul rebelled against with everything they had. It just **couldn't** be true! It was crazy person talk! That was just Sci-Fi mumbo-jumbo that plot writers cooked up during the halfway point in the season to keep viewers interested. Still, even though his heart and soul were against the idea, he had to find out what the **HELL** these guys were talking about.

"Um, I might be a little undereducated in the science stuff, but isn't it impossible for someone to have only one third of someone else's DNA in them?" He asked trying to keep his emotions out of his voice and sound as casual as possible, "I mean, I know parents usually toss in half of their DNA to make a kid and then half of the half get passed down to the grandkids, so what's the deal?"

This was only met with looks at one another as if they were debating which one of them would be the one to let him in on the big secret. Eventually, though, it was apparently decided that since it was Susan who had the, info that she would be the best person for the job.

"Well you see Mr. Harris—" she began before he cut her off with a gesture.

"Call me Xander. 'Mr. Harris' was Tony Harris and I'd rather not be connected to him." He pointed out, not wanting anything to do with the drunken bastard who raised him.

"Very well, Xander, about nine hours or so ago Mr. Marlowe came into possession of several files detailing an experiment conducted by a scientist that worked for International Operations, which is an American intelligence agency. The experiment was essentially an effort to produce a 'child', for want of a better word, based on the DNA of Mr. Cash in the hopes that the special traits Grifter possesses would produce interesting results when passed down to the child." Susan replied obviously not pleased with having to be the one to explain everything, "The scientist in charge of the experiment took matters one step further by combining Mr. Cash's DNA with the DNA of at least three other people. He made up thirty percent of the child's genetic code while two others made up the remaining sixty percent, with the final sample making up the final ten percent. While it took a few tries to get it right—"

"Doc! Just give me the bottom line, alright!" Xander said getting frustrated trying to understand all the techno-bio-babble and keep his rising anxiety in check.

"To sum it all up Xander you are the end result of that experiment. You are the result of combining Mr. Cash's DNA with the genetic material of three other people in the effort to produce a super powered being of great power." Susan replied a little annoyed at being interrupted twice but showing compassion for what the young man must be going through, "You were initially considered by the head of I.O to be a failure as you exhibited no special abilities in the months after your 'birth' and so you were placed in the care of a run down agent and deposited in Sunnydale under observation. Quite frankly, I doubt they thought you'd ever become anything important and likely placed surveillance merely as a formality. I imagine they were quite surprised when your powers activated."

While most people would likely be cursing up a storm right then and calling the Doc Lady a liar and a bitch, the emotions swirling within Xander actually had the miraculous effect of cancelling each other out for the most part. Free of emotional constraints, he was able to examine the facts with more objectivity than many who knew him would have thought possible given his personality. All the facts that had been laid out plus what he had learned on his own after waking up in the hospital in Oxnard and it all centered around one thing. He was a lab experiment, a **failed** lab experiment that couldn't even be considered human in the traditional sense of the word, possessing abilities coveted by many powerful organizations and people. Logically he knew that these facts didn't really change the essence of who he was, he was still Xander Harris, but at the same time they altered his world irreparably. In the end, though, there was one question that he had to ask before he could move on from this point and attempt to deal with his new circumstances.

"Do you have any idea who the other DNA samples came from?" He asked with an icy calmness that surprised everyone including himself.

"Well, now that you mention it, once I concluded that the results confirming Grifter's participation I did do a search in HALO's database for DNA matches for the remaining three people whose genetic material was used." Susan replied trying to look casual in her strides towards Spartan but failing in the eyes of those with the experience to see through such things, "The subject that contributed the ten percent and one of the specimen that contributed one of the thirty percent portions came up as unknown, but the remaining thirty percent of the genetic material did produce a complete match."

"Who is the 'lucky' person Doc?" Xander asked with a little frustration beginning to seep into his chilly visage.

"The identified DNA came from none other than Zealot." Susan replied hiding as best she could behind Spartan in an effort to protect herself from the Coda warrior's volatile nature.

"WHAT!?" Was pretty much the response from everyone with surprise, shock and disbelief being mixed in for flavour.

"Impossible!" Zealot ground out looking like she was moments away from interrogating the doctor personally.

"N-not really. How many times over the past thirty years have you been knocked unconscious by an enemy? How many times have you bled all over a sidewalk?" Susan said a little pale at the thought of what the Coda might do, "No offence Zealot, but given your… lifestyle… there would have been quite a few opportunities for someone to gain a sample of your DNA to use in an experiment."

While the majority of his brain was still numb from the story that had just been laid out for him he had to admit that the science lady was right. In a life where bleeding is to be expected and being captured by the enemy the same it wasn't too far a stretch that someone would have been able to get a DNA sample. Add to that the fact that this International Operations group probably had tech on par with what he'd seen the WildC.A.Ts use so far and it probably would have been simplicity itself to extract what they needed. Looking over at Zealot, he was surprised that she had a relatively calm look on her face but that appraisal of her mood was thrown in the trash the moment he looked her in the eyes. In them he could see hatred, revulsion and no little bit of disgust swirling in those pools of blue, with some of the emotions being directed at him. He knew that it was weird but for some reason he knew that she'd attached some of those emotions to him even though he hadn't existed when the samples were taken. Still, he couldn't help but understand what she had to be going through at the moment. For all intents and purposes she had been genetically raped and had a part of her being used in an experiment by some very unsavory people. While she probably would like nothing better than to find the people responsible and have a **chat** with them, her emotions would not wait that long and so she attached some of what she was feeling to him. So potent were the emotions the warrior woman was feeling right then that he could almost feel them burning his skin. It was right then that he began to come back to himself and the emotional numbness started to fade to be replaced by normal emotions.

_I need to get out of here. I need to think! _He thought before asking, "Look, can one of you guys show me to the kitchen or something? I haven't had a thing to eat since this morning."

"Sure Xander. Follow me." Voodoo replied, getting up from her seat on the couch and making her way to the door.

Deciding to cover up his inner thoughts in his usual manner he said "Lady, I'd follow you anywhere!"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

HALO Corporation Penthouse Lounge/Living Room, One Minute Later 

"Well, that went well." Commented Reno Bryce, aka Warblade, dryly as he looked at the doorway where their young guest had been a short while ago.

"Cut the kid some slack Reno. After all it's not every day that you found out the people you thought were your parents were just your keepers or that you were cooked up in a lab." Savant said while sipping her diet soda, "Xander just needs time to adjust to it, that's all."

"Nevertheless, we'll need to keep a close watch on him until he gets a better handle on his powers." Spartan declared with a look in his eyes that implied he was doing exactly that via the building's internal security cameras, "While Stormwatch might be in the dark about us, it's a fact that Lynch and certain members of I.O know who we are and have a good idea of where they can find us."

"You think they'd try and raid the place to get the kid?" Jeremy asked with some surprise at the idea that some government goons would actually storm the HALO building.

"They can try but I guarantee ya the only thing they'll find is a face full of high temperature rounds from my VAD PP-30 pistols." Grifter stated, making it clear that anyone looking to get at his son would have to make it past him first.

To say that his response intrigued some of his team mates would be fairly accurate, but it interested him even more because it had only been a few minutes since the kid had been confirmed as his and already he was vowing to kill anyone who tried to hurt Xander. The whole idea left him off his game but at the same time he had feeling he could grow to like the whole idea of having a son. Like most people, he'd considered having a kid and a family growing up through the years but one thing or another always forced him to shelve the idea. In the beginning it was the fact that he barely had enough money from time to time to feed and cloth himself, never mind anyone else. Later on it was his career working for Uncle Sam and defending the red, white and blue that prevented him from forming any relationships that might have gone somewhere. More recently though was the fact that between his own list of enemies and his work with Zealot against the Daemonites kept him on the move almost constantly. It had almost gotten to the point where he'd been ready to accept that kids and a family just weren't in his future. With Xander in the picture, though, that had all changed in more ways than one especially where Zealot was concerned.

_Always wanted somethin' a little more solid with her than this on again, off again thing we have going on._ He thought to himself as he turned and looked at the fierce Coda woman, _Maybe this could be the start of that._

When he looked at the face of Lady Zannah of the Coda, though, that idea came into some serious doubt. He had been completely oblivious to her in the minutes after Doc Susan revealed the results of the DNA tests but now that he really saw her, he had a bad feeling about he chances of her and Xander even being **civil** towards one another. While to the others Zealot might seem to just be a little more ice like than usual for someone like him who had been with her longer, he can see the revulsion and disgust in her eyes. For a moment he's a little confused as to what could be causing her to feel those emotions, but then recent revelations catch up and he can understand what's probably going through her head. Thanks to that psycho doc at I.O, she's been violated and just got introduced to the end result of that violation live and in person. While he didn't think that Zealot would be stupid enough to try and peg some of those feelings of hers on Xander, he figured he'd better nip the possibility in the bud before it grew into something unstable.

"Between me and Zealot, anyone looking to take or kill Xander is going to find themselves in a whole world of hurt." He declared before baiting his first hook, "Ain't that right Zannah?"

"Indeed. It would be dangerous for so potent a S.P.B to fall into the hands of a potential enemy." She replied, sounding completely professional except for a slight tinge to her tone.

"That and he might as well be family now right?" Grifter proposed while a part of him wondered if he had a death wish.

"You may consider him family, brother Grifter, but I **do not**." Zealot replied giving him a glare that warned Mr. Cash not to continue with his present line of thinking, "He is the product of the efforts of a geneticist that stole my life's blood and violated my being. While I do not hold Alexander personally responsible for this, I cannot consider him to anything other than a symbol of a violation most foul."

"Is your opinion of Alexander going to affect your ability to protect him?" Spartan asked ever the first person to spot and handle a potential threat to team dynamics.

"No. I will do my duty and stop any who attempt to extract him or harm him, but that is as far as I will go with him." Zealot replied and with that she walked out of the room, most likely to the combat training room to bust up a few 'bots, leaving the rest of them to recall the Chinese curse 'may you live in interesting times'.

"Don't worry Cole. Zealot will come to her senses eventually, once she's had a chance to calm down and look at things objectively." Savant said as she put her drink down and stood up, "Well, I'd love to stay and see how this little drama turns out with my sorta nephew, but I've got some work that needs catching up on so I'll see you guys later."

With that the smartest person in the room next to Void left, leaving the remaining WildC.A.Ts to decide what they were going to do next. Naturally it was Reno who had to pick what was pretty much the most volatile topic next to trying to reason with Zealot.

"So Cole? When're you going to give Slayton a call?" Warblade asked, only second guessing his choice of words after seeing the glare Grifter was sending his way.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

International Operations, McLean, Virginia, Evening 

"Very well, Agent Myers. Proceed with the implementation of the usual surveillance measures of the prescribed targets. I want to know the **moment** our boy steps out into the open." Craven ordered with mild dissatisfaction in his voice.

"Y-yes sir." Stuttered Agent Myers as he began to make for the door to the office with as much grace and decorum as he could manage, considering the fear that was thrumming through his body at the moment.

"Oh and Myers?" Craven said before looking down at the floor in front of his desk, "Have someone one from 'cleaning' come up and take Agent Anderson away."

"Certainly sir." Myers said before finally managing to make it outside the door.

With that Miles Craven was left to contemplate the new lay of the land since the Black Razor teams sent to retrieve Mr. Alexander Harris had failed. Objectively he knew that there were mitigating circumstances, such as Stormwatch's involvement and the bold rescue made by Cole Cash and his team, but it was still not a positive outcome in his mind. If what the reports on the young man said were indeed true, then the boy might be even more powerful than he had originally anticipated. For one thing, Alex apparently had no conscious control over his abilities but was still able to match strength levels consistent with Black Razor power armor. Add to that the fact that the agent that had gotten the drop on the young man was in need of significant psychic reconstruction and it implied much about what Harris would be able to do once he fully came into his powers. All in all the boy could make a seriously adequate second in command once Project Renaissance came to fruition. After all, the future overlord of the world would need a subordinate of almost identical power nearby just in case he wanted something done right.

_Still, best to keep my mind in the present for the time being and begin planning my next move._ He thought as he began accessing files on his computer.

First on the agenda was attempting to anticipate what Cole would do with the boy now that he had young Alexander. The obvious choice would be to train the young man in the use of his powers, lest they harm innocent bystanders by accident. The most convenient choice, the WildC.A.T Voodoo, was possible but unlikely since she was most likely still recuperating from that plot involving the Daemonite shapeshifter. So who else was there that would be capable of training a teenager who just discovered he had power to rival most of the Stormwatch roster? A thought occurred to him and, after some checking of the status of a warrant issued by Stormwatch, it was confirmed that Marc Slayton was still wanted for freeing the Daemonite agent Taboo. While the relationship between Cole and Marc had never been the best, especially once the majority of Team 7 deserted, the agent codenamed Backlash was a prime choice for the training of S.P.Bs. Add to that the fact that Slayton had psi-powers of his own and it would seem like an ideal match. True, there was no official location listed in the file as to where the man could be found, but it would take only some moderate digging to get that information. Once that was done the two would be watched for the most part, as he saw no reason to prevent the boy from receiving some instruction in his gifts since it would save I.O's own people some work in the long run. Still, he would have to make certain to **acquire** the kid before he returned to the fortress that was the HALO building and the care of the WildC.A.Ts.

_Still, it is a minor setback at best, but it's nothing to get overly concerned about. _He thought after electronically issuing the orders to begin searching for Backlash's present location.

Once the boy's introduction to the world of super powered beings was complete and he at least had rudimentary control over his abilities that would be the time strike. He would spare no expense this time and send at least five Black Razor teams along with a few mercenary S.P.Bs to ensure that not even the involvement of the WildC.A.Ts would keep him from getting what he desired. From there a little re-education and enhancement would bring the young man up to snuff, putting the odds that much more in his favor when the time for his big play came along. Looking at all the facts he almost regretted having to terminate Agent Anderson's employment but an example had to be made somewhere in order to ensure that the level of quality expected of agents did not drop.

_I just wish agents didn't make such a stain on the floor on their way out. _He thought with mild amusement as he looked down at the rapidly cooling corpse on his office floor.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Skywatch, L.E.O (Low Earth Orbit), Same Time 

"So would someone care to explain to me how we let a team of unknown S.P.Bs get a hold of a teenager that our specialists are currently ranking in the **top five** most powerful seedlings ever found?" Asked Weatherman, a.k.a Christine Trelane, a.k.a Synergy, who was at the moment not looking happy **at all.**

Not that Jackson King, a.k.a Battalion, could blame her considering his team had gotten schooled like a bunch of rookies fresh from boot camp in Oxnard. He knew that others would claim that he couldn't be held responsible, given that he had the Black Razors getting in his way and a team of S.P.Bs showing up out of nowhere. However he was a realistic man and, more importantly, he was a military man, which meant he knew that a commander had to take responsibility for his team's actions, as well as their failures. If he had planned things out more or perhaps been a bit more aggressive in apprehending the kid, things might have turned out a little differently. However, that was neither here nor there and dwelling on the past would get him nowhere especially given what he learned not too long ago about the future.

"It was just a string of bad luck Weatherman." Diva, a.k.a Alessandra Fermi, replied even though she knew Christine's question was rhetorical, "Between the Black Razor's interference and the unexpected arrival of that rogue WildC.A.Ts team, we were off balance almost from the beginning. Next time that team or Mr. Harris shows up, we'll be ready for them."

"Let's just hope that **next time** things go like clockwork because I'm not looking forward to explaining to the oversight committee why we lost an omega level S.P.B a second time." Weatherman stated with a tone leaving little doubt as to serious she was at the moment, "Dismissed."

With that the meeting broke up and the various members of Stormwatch went their separate ways, whether it was to their rooms or the recreational areas of Skywatch. Battalion, though, stayed in the briefing room and contemplated the future and what role Alexander LaVelle Harris would have in that future. He'd only had time for a cursory review of the file the boy had and, aside from an obvious case of parental abuse, the teenager seemed like the stereotypical Californian boy. However, when he had started calling up information on the young man's hometown of Sunnydale, California, that was when an itch began to grow beneath his skin. The number of churches, cemeteries and suspicious deaths were enough to get him to recommend a full investigation team be sent in to ascertain the cause of the problems in what should have been a sleepy little town. However amendments to the file on Sunnydale had told him that he wasn't the only person to have tried to look into the town and it's past. All of those previous attempts at starting something had been stopped by someone high up the American government hierarchy. The reasons given ranged from 'national security' to 'classified', but in all cases it resulted in the investigation getting sacked before it even got off the ground. The only work that was permitted was the effect that the unique energy field that the town emitted would have on the surrounding region and what countermeasures could be devised to limit the damage.

_The whole thing stinks!_ Jackson thought as with a frown that told everyone looking at him that he was not a happy man.

Sadly there was little he could do about it right now, especially since he had so little time to prepare before 'The Fall', as he had come to call that future event he wanted to desperately to prevent. So many lives depended on him to take destiny down a different path and he knew he'd only get once shot at making it happen the way he wanted it to go down. So deep in thought was he that he didn't even notice Diva until she was right on top of him about to give him a little shake to knock him out of his brooding.

"What's wrong Jack? I know the mission went bad, but you've got a look on your face that says there's something more going on in that head of yours." She said in a way that implied she was willing to be a listener if he needed one.

_If only I could tell you everything Alessandra. _He thought and for a moment he was tempted to come clean and tell her everything that he'd learned from that enigma of a man called Timepsan.

However he immediately locked up that idea before it could take any sort of hold on his mind and came up with a quick response to his second in command's question.

"I was just wondering if there was something we weren't seeing about Alex Harris." He replied carefully mixing just enough of the truth with the lie, "I did some digging on him and where he's from, but for every question I managed to answer three more odd things cropped up. I've got a bad feeling that if we don't play our cards right with this kid, we're going to have one helluva problem on our hands."

"Don't worry. Between the specialists in Skywatch and you playing Sherlock Holmes in your spare time, we'll find him in no time and set him straight." Diva said reassuringly as she tried to allay any of the concerns her friend had concerning the young man.

"I hope so Diva, because if not then we'll have to make room for one more in the cryogenic detention block." Jackson King said grimly as his thoughts turned to those already imprison in the deep cold tubes contained in that secure room.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&


	4. Training, Trips and Choices

Upstate New York, One Week Later, Mid-Morning 

"That was a **BLAST!**" Alex crowed as the souped up motorcycle he'd been riding on with Grifter came to a halt.

"Glad you liked it kid." Grifter said with a smile before turning off the engine and getting off, "Maybe once you get your driver's license and spend a few hours in the simulator back at HALO I'll convince Marlowe to get ya one."

Truth was he had enjoyed the ride almost as much as Alex had and that was strange since he'd been riding on things like this and more for so many years it had become old hat for him. Yet, somehow, riding on his bike with Alex, this was different from all those other times and made it new again. It was the oddest contradiction of emotions he'd ever experience but jus the same he was starting to like it. It had been about a week since the docs at HALO confirmed beyond a reasonable doubt that the kid getting his stuff out of the cargo compartment of the bike was indeed his son.

Sort of.

While he didn't understand all of the science behind the genetic experiment that brought the kid into being, he did know that thirty percent of Alex had come from him with another thirty coming from Zealot. So, in away, the kid represented the one thing he'd always wanted between him and Zannah even if she still gave the kid the cold shoulder every time they met and never did anything besides her job around him. Oh, there was a part of him that knew a long-term relationship would be difficult with her to say the least, with the major problem being their respective life spans, but what he felt for her was enough to motivate him into giving it all he had and more. So in a way the only thing really keeping him from his ideal family photo was a wedding ring around Zannah's finger and her warming up to Alex, at least to the point where a friendship might form. So that's what he planned on working on while his kid was training to get a handle on his powers. He wouldn't take the direct approach with it, that would only make things worse, but instead he'd do his best to track down those involved in the experiment, especially Dr. Sing. The way he figured it letting Zealot tear into them and get some closure on the whole thing would go a long way towards her eventually accepting the kid. It would still take some work, even with Anton Sing dead, but at least Zannah would get a chance to vent on someone who deserved it rather than someone who didn't.

"So who exactly is this Slayton guy anyway, Grifter?" Alex asked as he slung his bag over his shoulder, "Some kind of S.P.B guru or something?"

"Or something kid. Definitely an 'or something'." Cole replied, doing his best to conceal his dislike of the man he still saw as a traitor to the team and a government lapdog.

Even years later after Team Seven broke apart and went to ground, he still couldn't bring himself to trust Eric after the man chose to stay with Craven when he could have made a run for it with the rest of them. Not that their relationship prior to that had been sunshine and roses but after what Craven had been up to had been exposed, he firmly believed that any man with an ounce of decency in them would have severed all ties with that snake. He knew the official reason that Slayton had given was that he was using him, Lynch and Cray's continued services as bargaining chips to stop pursuit of the rest of them but he knew that that would only keep Miles Craven off their backs for a short while. For Craven power was like a drug and, like any addict, the person had to **want** to kick the habit before detox could really work at all. Craven actually wanting to give up his desire for power… that would **NEVER** happen! The man was a lost cause in that department so all Slayton really did was delay the inevitable. Given that Backlash was now on the run from the authorities and no longer working for I.O, that meant that only Cray and Lynch were there to keep an eye on that walking corpse. With the guy who originally made the deal no longer there to yank on Craven's leash, it was only a matter of time before the director of I.O made a play for either the rest of Team Seven or their kids.

_Slayton had better be able to keep at least Alex safe or I'm gonna hold him personally responsible for everything that happens to my boy afterwards!_ Grifter promised to himself as he and his son started down the path to the lodge where Eric and his girlfriend were set up.

That was another thing he was edgy with, Alex being in close proximity to a member of Skywatch, given that it had been Stormwatch that the C.A.Ts had rescued the kid from. Would she be decent enough to keep Alex's location from her bosses? Or would she call down Stormwatch on the kid the second he was gone? He wanted to think that the lady was decent enough that she'd remember that she owed the WildC.A.Ts her life and that that would be enough to keep her mouth shut. However his experiences with Team Seven and various other adventures worldwide had made him cynical towards the idea that anyone who worked for a government agency could be trusted. People in that line of work often had to compromise their own code of honor on a mission in order to do what they came to do. As a side effect, though, they either became so guilt ridden that they resigned or they learned to suppress that guilt using the old 'I was just following orders' routine. That or they tried to console themselves by saying that it would have been worse if anyone else had been forced to do it. Bullshit to both excuses! It didn't matter whether they were just following orders or thought that it'd be more merciful for them to do the job than someone else! They had still done a slimy job that would leave blood on their hands for the rest of their lives.

_Question is: Is this Major LaSalle one of the ones that still has their soul or has she sold it in the name of 'duty' and 'protocol'?_ He thought as the cabin that Slayton and LaSalle had been set up in.

They got about as far as the backyard of the place before Backlash and his lady friend walked into view from the front of the place with welcoming smiles on their faces. Well, LaSalle had a welcoming smile on her face, Slayton, on the other hand, had looked like he was just doing his best to remain polite and professional. Not that he could blame the platinum blonde bum since he was pretty much doing the same but it also indicated that he should probably make the intros short and sweet to avoid things going south on them all.

"Slayton." He said in greeting, figuring that that alone would be a polite greeting as far as he was concerned.

"Cash." Mimicked Slayton, who extended his hand for a handshake.

Reluctantly and more to put his son at ease than actually wanting to do it he took the hand and gave it a good shake, sans a 'squeeze-until-the-other-guy-flinches' move.

"So this must be your son Alex." LaSalle said with a slightly more cheery than necessary voice, obviously intending to move things along before it could devolve into a fistfight, "I hear you've made quite a splash in the last couple of days."

"Only in the 'everyone-wants-me-dead-or-working-for-them' sort of way Major LaSalle." Alex said trying to make it sound like a joke rather than the reality it actually was, "Hopefully though a few months with snow dome here will make it so that I can at least hold my own if anybody comes after me."

Grifter barely managed to hold in a guffaw of laughter at his son's nickname for Slayton and made a note to call Backlash that from here on it since, judging from the former member of Skywatch's face, it had definitely rubbed him the wrong way.

"Count on it Alex. By the time I'm done with you Jackson's going to be worrying about his job security." Slayton said in an equally playful manner but with a mist of something more spread over his words.

"I don't think King will have that much to worry about Slayton." Cole said, not liking the idea of Backlash trying to recruit his kid for Stormwatch, "From how he handled himself against the Black Razors and Stormwatch, I don't think he'd take well to the chain of command."

"Oh I don't have a problem with following orders from time to time, but it's the rules and regulations I'd probably have a hard time following." Alex said seriously with a look in his eyes saying that he had picked up on the growing tension between Grifter and Backlash, "That and writing reports after every mission. Mine would probably read like: showed up, kicked the bad guys' asses, saved the day and came home. I'm guessing the higher ups would probably want a little more detail right?"

This actually got both him and Slayton chuckling a bit as they both conjured up images in their minds of how a superior officer would respond to such a short, to the point and seriously lacking in detail report like that. Of course once they realized that they were laughing along with someone they didn't particularly like they stopped almost immediately.

'_Better move this along before I lose what 'politeness' I have left'_ Cole thought before saying, "Okay kid, here's how it's gonna be. For the next three months you're going to be taught by Slayton here how to control your powers. Now he's not going to be able to spend all his time with you since he officially came here to help the Major get back on her feet, but when he does put you through your paces I expect you to give your best. Okay?"

"Sure thing Grifter." Alex said clearly about as comfortable as he was when it came to actually saying the words 'son' and 'dad'.

"Well, then I'm outta here. Marlowe's got a job for me to do tracking down a lead or something so I'd better get to it." He said not mentioning the rumors of a Daemonite Lord plotting against the C.A.Ts in the presence of people who might complicate things, "Take care of my kid, Slayton. Train him good. I'll be back in a couple of weeks to see how things are going."

"Count on it, Cole." Slayton said making it clear in the tone of his voice that he would take the job of training and protecting Alex seriously.

With all that needed to be said spoken he turned and headed back up the path to his bike, making a mental list of places where he could put the hurt on some people to get the information Marlowe wanted on this Daemonite Lord. All the while, though, a part of him had to wonder if this would be the last time he saw his son like this and if the next time they met Alex would be wearing a Stormwatch uniform.

It was a concern that bothered him all the way back to the city.

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One Week Later, Upstate New York, Early Afternoon 

_Military boot camp is looking to be heaven right about now! _Xander thought as he tried his best to perform the exercise as Mr. Slayton had laid it out for him.

As he felt the sweat pour down his face, he wished he could spare the concentration and the strength to wipe it off but he knew that if he did that one of the rocks he was currently using his powers to levitate **and** orbit around his head would waver. While he himself might not mind a little shakiness from the stones circling his head, he knew that his drill sergeant Eric Slayton, a.k.a Backlash, would come down on him like a ton of bricks for it. Snow Dome would either give him a serious lecture followed by doubling the difficulty of the next exercise or just plain double everything for a few days as punishment. Needless to say he just let the sweat drip and focused on keeping the rocks' orbit steady and the speed at which they orbited constant.

He knew the moment he started to slip in this exercise when he heard Eric leave his seat on a nearby tree stump. It was only when the guy stayed right where he was that things were actually going good. His theory was proven right when suddenly one of the rocks required a great deal more effort to move than it had a few seconds ago. Nevertheless, he did his best to keep it moving despite the hand like extra weight that had been added to it. However the unwanted passenger of the rock didn't seem to like the speed at which its ride was going and asked a friend to hop on to add a little more weight. Pushing his concentration even harder, he did his best to move the rock to where it needed to go despite the added difficulty but he knew that if he went too far he'd fail the exercise even more than he had by letting one of the rocks waver on its orbital path.

The purpose of the exercise was to both hone his stamina in using his telekinesis and fine tune his control at the same time by adhering to strict rules of flight path as well as speed. While he had no doubt that he could force the rock to continue on its path, he didn't think he had enough fine control to keep it at the speed Slayton had set for it. In all likelihood if he tried to force it, to put some real power into his T.K, it'd shoot off into the woods like a rocket stopping only when it met something it couldn't punch through. That, however, would only earn him more exercise pain from his drill sergeant so despite the urge he had to just overpower Backlash's grip on the rock, he kept at it with things at their current level. Like trying to see just how close to the edge of a table you can nudge a penny before it falls off to the ground he kept trying to get the rock to go where it had to go and move at a speed it needed to move.

_C'mon… C'mon… __**C'mon!**_ He thought, willing the stone to go where he willed it despite the force acting against both it and him, _Get moving dammit!_

Unfortunately that one moment of angry frustration was enough to get the amount of power he was putting into the exercise to spike leading to not only the rock Slayton had his hand on to shatter but all the other ones as well. It took him a second to realize this and, with a groan of both disappointment and dread, he watched them drop to the ground as piles of gravel.

"You lasted longer than last time Harris but you still failed." Slayton said stepping around in front of Xander and blocking the sun's rays, "You let your frustration and anger influence your abilities and this is the result. You wield a great deal of power young man and because of that you have to attain complete control over it or else you could wind up hurting or even killing someone by accident."

"You think I don't know that? You think I wanted this much power?" He asked angrily while doing his best to keep a firm grip on his abilities, "I would have been happy with getting just enough power to hold my own against one of those Black Razor guys or at least be as good as one of the WildC.A.Ts. Instead I wind up being the telekinetic/telepathic/whatever equivalent of a nuke and now I need to try and get a handle on it or I could wind up killing people just by thinking nasty thoughts about them. Trust me Mr. Slayton when I say I know exactly what my situation is."

For a moment Slayton just stood there and looked down at him as though he was waiting for something more to be said. Minutes passed and not a word was said between them but maybe that was because their eyes were conveying what they wanted to be said instead. For him it was a dead serious understanding that he was a danger to others and wound continue to be until he learned to get a handle on his powers. He imagined Slayton was trying to convey that he wasn't entirely convinced that his student understood that and was debating whether or not to continue with the exercises.

"Let's break for a late lunch then we'll move onto the close quarters combat training." Slayton declared and, without another word, began to walk in the direction of the log cabin.

Looking at the man like he would if Giles had offered to play a game of DOOM online with him, he stood there gaping for a few moments until he realized that any delay on his part might cause Backlash to think he wasn't hungry. With as much speed as his stiff and sore legs would allow him he got to his feet and proceeded to try and catch up with his instructor for the past week. The reason why his legs were sore as well as stiff was because they had been put through a **ten mile** jog earlier in the day and were still in the process of recovering. That was pretty much how every day started out except that it had started with a two mile jog and gone up from there every day until it reached ten this morning. Since the day his training under Eric Slayton began, it had stuck to the same routine over and over again with the only variation being the degree of difficulty.

The day started off with the jogging then went to breakfast before continuing with practicing with his telepathy by trying to keep Slayton out of his head. He had great incentive for this since what the guy tried to plant more often than not were the most annoying songs in all of existence, the worst ones being the Barney theme song and the second being Its a Small World. Offensive telepathy was usually just a role reversal with him trying to plant things in Backlash's mind or tap into one of the man's senses. He had asked about doing things like he'd seen in the X-Men comics like psi-bolts or a bit telepathic ventriloquism but Slayton had shot those down in a heartbeat. According to Snow Dome those would wait until he had displayed sufficient control in all the other areas that he could be trusted not to fry the receiver's brain by accident. So telepathy classes were kept to harmless little moves and defense exercises alone.

Once telepathy classes were over with they went on to trying to consciously activate what he had come to label his 'environmental precognitive' power. So far this ability had only turned on during times of high stress or physical trauma while staying in the 'off' position the rest of the time. For the most part, according to Slayton, the exercises were just to see if it **could** be turned on and off at will or if it was just something automatic that would only trigger if specific circumstances were met. So far the results were… sporadic at best with the ability sometimes activating when he wanted it to but all the other times remaining offline. Still, the mere fact that he could activate it some of the time meant that it was something he could attain control over if they worked at it. Given how hard it had been to get it to turn on the first few times, he knew it would probably be the last thing he'd manage to get a grip on.

Then came what he had been working on for the past two hours straight, which was control of his telekinetic abilities through exercises he was sure Slayton was copying from The Empire Strikes Back with Yoda and Luke on Dagobah. After all, the whole 'orbiting rocks' routine was a dead give away as far as he was concerned with the only original test being the weight limit of what he could levitate without bursting a blood vessel in his brain. So far they'd yet to really find an upper limit to how much he could lift but then again there wasn't exactly a great selection of objects for him to levitate out in the middle of nowhere. Still it was safe to say that there wasn't a boulder or tree within miles that he couldn't put fifty feet in the air. After that was usually when they broke for lunch and chatted a bit with Major LaSalle before moving onto C.Q.C training, which had really been his idea more than Slayton's idea. Unlike most people who got super powers, he had the smarts to know that if there was a way to get powers than there had to be a way to take powers away from people. So it was his desire to still be able to defend himself even if some science geek evil guy managed to take away his powers somehow and that had led to the hand-to-hand combat training. While that session usually left him sporting new bruises to accompany the old bruises he'd gotten the previous day, Slayton was saying that he was improving quite a bit each class.

He'd have to take Backlash's word for that.

The evenings he mostly had free since that time needed to be devoted to Major LaSalle's recovery from her nasty time in a coma with a part of her mind trapped inside of a Daemonite. So the evening was pretty much his recovery time, a time to lay back and relax, when he could enjoy the five bazillion channels on the TV that was in the HALO built cabin. That and a fully stocked fridge (although Slayton had cleared out the majority of the junk food. That JERK!) made for some pretty good R&R time all things considered.

Walking up the path to the cabin he spotted a foxy looking redhead in a white and black jacket, black shirt and jeans outfit that looked definitely too good to be legal. The only thing that kept him from going into his 'Bond, James Bond' mode was the fact that she was obviously a good eight or ten years older than him. Still, she was nice eye candy and if she decided to stick around for the close quarters combat training it would provide him with extra incentive not to get his ass handed to him too badly.

"Hey Slayton! Who's the kid? Your new cute boy sidekick or something?" The lady asked playfully, taking a few steps forward.

_Cute!? She thinks I'm __**CUTE!?**_ He thought with mixed feelings since 'cute' was not a word most guys wanted used in reference to them, but it was kinda good coming from the knockout in front of him.

"This is Xander Harris. He's the son of a friend that I agreed to train for a while." Slayton replied not giving away just **who** his dad was or **what** the training entailed, "Xander, this is Amanda Reed. She helped me find the… cure for Diane's condition. In return I've agreed to help her overcome some… legal difficulties."

"Well it'll be nice to have another bit of eye candy to look at besides blonde." Said his mouth before his brain could draft something a little more politically correct.

Silence hung in the air for a while and he was pretty sure his face was doing a good impression of a tomato at the moment as he began to wonder what kind of exercise punishment Backlash would come up with for that little slip of the tongue. His fears of reprisal were dispelled somewhat when Reed started to chuckle a bit and even Slayton seemed to be a little amused.

"I'll do my best to give you something nice to look at kid." Amanda said with a tone that while playful might have had a tint of honesty to it.

"Y-yeah…'kay I-I'll just go get something to eat. Yeah!" he said making his way towards the door of the cabin, "You guys catch up a-and stuff."

With that he walked as quickly as he could without looking too bad into the cabin to get a bite to eat wishing the entire time that there was some sort of training to control his mouth when in the presence of beautiful women.

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One Minute Later, Backlash's P.O.V 

"Cute kid. He's going to be a real heartbreaker once he gets his mouth under control." Amanda said as she watched with an amused smile as the boy entered the cabin.

"That and a few other things but your right. Once he gets a little more self-confidence and a lot more experience he'll definitely be something to look at." Eric Slayton stated looking at his student for the past week straight.

Although he would never tell the whole truth to anyone, what he saw in the kid was someone with the potential to become one of the super heavyweights of the hero scene. With training, time and a little guidance Xander could easily become ranked right up there with Majestic and Supreme. Mostly, though, it was because he could **feel** the kid getting stronger every day that he believed the boy would become something awe-inspiring someday. When Cole had come to drop the kid off, he had already known they arrived five minutes before they got off their bike. The kid put out so much psi-energy that anyone with a decent amount of sensitivity would be able to detect him coming and that was **with** the neuro-jam headband on his skull. That alone had been proof to him that the teenager needed to get a hold of his powers sooner rather than later, otherwise the kid would definitely get people killed one way or another.

As the days passed though he had felt the power in the kid grow even stronger.

It was like his power was a muscle and the more it was used and honed, the more powerful it would become. He truly had no idea if the kid's powers had an upper limit but he hoped it did. Don't get him wrong though, Xander was a pretty okay kid even if his father was Cole Cash, he liked the kid but he knew all too well what effect power can have on even the most decent of people. Given the kind of power he'd seen the boy exhibit so far he knew it'd start affecting the kid's judgment sooner or later because without barriers people find it hard to stay moral. It was why people like those in Waguard, currently locked up in cryo-tubes on Skywatch, went mad and became one of the greatest threats the Earth had ever known. Ask anyone who was a part of the effort to capture them and they'll say that God himself must have intervened on their behalf and given them the edge they needed. However instead of doing the smart thing and killing them while they had the chance the committee in charge of Skywatch decided on cryo-stasis. It was their decision that the Warguard be kept as a weapon of last resort

The fools.

However after meeting the kid and spending the last week with him he had made a silent promise to himself that he'd do all he could to make sure that Xander didn't lose it like Despot and the Warguard had when their powers grew too large. That was why he was so hard on the kid during their various training exercises, to emphasize the existence of limits and the need for restraint. The truth of the matter was that the kid was proving to be one of the best students he'd ever taught and that opinion was formed in only a week. The kid possessed a sort of military discipline that it usually took green recruits months to achieve and when asked how he came to have it Xander told him about his hometown of Sunnydale. To say that he was shocked that things long considered works of fiction were in fact real and walking among the people of Earth was an understatement.

Over the course of the past week the kid had let him in on the Hellmouth and what went on there but he could tell that there were certain facts that the kid was holding back. These facts were withheld not out of some kind of malevolent deceit but rather from a feeling of protectiveness for something or someone. That was enough to get him to leave that area question free and focus more on the demonic and supernatural threats that apparently existed in the world. It was through that discussion that Xander revealed the Halloween spell that for one night turned him into an army grunt of indeterminate rank and skill. This had gotten his interest piqued enough that he had put the kid through a few quick drills common in most military academies and training facilities.

It turned out that the kid hadn't been lying when he said that there was no rhyme or reason as far as what he did or didn't know about military procedure, protocol or skills. Aim wise the kid was a crack shot with just about every standard firearm but was a little more hit or miss with some of the more exotic hardware. Hand to hand combat he wasn't brilliant with but, while he could handle your average street tough, against a professional or someone on one of the Stormwatch teams he'd be out cold before his brain registered the first hit. Tactics were his real Achilles heel though, since the kid was more of a 'by the seat of my pants' kind of person when it came to coming up with a plan. While not entirely a bad thing, being unpredictable being the best benefit of that style of fighting, it would get him killed against a superior force. That was why he tossed the kid a few books on strategy and tactics when he thought the boy might actually read them. If he retained even a tenth of what was in those books it'd improve the teenager's chances of survival immensely. All in all the kid had a definite head start that most S.P.B recruits didn't have and that would be what would keep Xander's progress at its current level. The boy was proceeding along at a fairly decent clip, certainly better than most green recruits, and while he was still months away from being put on a Stormwatch team, Cole's kid would definitely break the record for the youngest graduate of Backlash's Boot Camp.

"Marc? Hey Slayton! You in there?" came Amanda's voice breaking him out of his thoughts and bringing him back to the real world.

"Sorry Reed. I was just thinking about Xander's training schedule for tomorrow." He replied as he shelved any further thoughts about Harris until tomorrow.

"Planning on making him drop and give you a million?" She asked humorously with a grin, "Don't be too hard on the kid. After all a girl can never get too many compliments."

"Maybe but he should be careful about who he gives those compliments to." He said with a grin of his own, "After all he might wind up with more than he can handle."

"Oh I'm sure you can give him a few pointers on that." Amanda said with a look on her face that was bordering on flirtatious.

"Hey Eric? You two coming in for lunch or what?" Diane asked from the doorway and there was no mistaking the look on her face right then.

_Damn! Looks like I have some damage control to do now._ He thought as he knew exactly what his girlfriend was probably thinking right then.

"If you're the cook you bet we are!" He said briskly walking to the front door of the cabin, "You coming Reed?"

"Sure. Could use a good meal." Amanda said with a look that spoke of angry disappointment.

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That Night, Xander's Room 

_Ow! Ow! Ow and need I say __**OW!**_ Thought Xander as he tried to find a semi-comfortable position to fall asleep in despite his numerous new bruises, _Definitely gotta remind Backlash that this training and not actual combat!_

It had been a particularly nasty bit of C.Q.C training after lunch and he had a feeling it had to do with the unexpected redhead afternoon guest trying a little too hard to piss off Diane without doing anything too obvious. It had taken him about two minutes into lunch to figure out the scenario he was stuck in the middle of and while a part of him had wanted to at least try to play peacemaker, his survival instinct tied that part of him up and shoved it into a mental closet. The part of him that had kept him alive in Sunnydale for the past three years knew that it would be suicide to try and get in between the two ladies or even provide support for Slayton when he inevitably tried to get in between them. After all the women were knockouts, both had an arsenal of words to use against each other and both of them were probably lethal enough to wipe out a decent sized town. Would any sane male want to get in between two such ladies?

Not A **CHANCE!**

Unfortunately the aftermath of lunch had left Eric in a bit of a grouchy mood that he channeled into his close quarters combat training session. That had, of course, led to a few more new bruises than usual and a few choice words about the Xan-man's lack of focus, despite the fact that the son of Cole Cash had done his best the entire time. It took three hours but eventually Slayton brought the training to a close and told him to hit the showers. For the first time since high school gym those last three words were a godsend to him and ones that he happily obeyed since being told to do that only meant that training was done for the day. Unfortunately the shower had to be much shorter than he would have liked but since hogging all the hot water would have led to an unpleasant confrontation with Diane LaSalle, he decided to play it safe.

That had led to a night in front of the tube watching the latest episode of the Simpsons and then catching three James Bond flicks back to back until midnight. He'd heard a few chuckles and contemptuous snorts from both LaSalle and Slayton during some of the way cool Bond moments but for the most part they stay focused either on each other or on the Major's physical rehabilitation. Good for them because he was three snorts and chuckles away from confronting them on dissing his favorite super spy. Oh, he knew that since they were both super duper spies that the stuff that double oh seven did probably seemed implausible or amateurish to them, but that still didn't give them the right to ruin his evening of R&R as far as he was concerned.

Now, though, his main problem was that his stupid body was not willing to let him go off to la-la land for the night on account of too many pain receptors were being lit off. That is what had prompted him to do what he was doing right now, which was trying to find a position in which the least amount of pain receptors possible were being triggered. Unfortunately he had a feeling he would have to spontaneously develop the super power of ultimate contortionist in order to pull that off. In the end he just gave up and settled into the position he normally went to sleep in figuring that fatigue would eventually drag him off to sleep despite the pain. He just hoped that it did so sooner rather than later or he was going to pay for it when the time came for Slayton's morning jogging session.

_At least it can't get any worse…. _He thought as his mind finally dragged him off to sleepy time.

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Have you ever seen one of those movie previews where it starts out on this beautiful panning moment of some tropical forest with beautiful birds and wonderfully sunny sky? It goes on for a few minutes before all of a sudden there is an ominous booming sound that's half rumbling thunder and half shit load of explosives going off. The pace of the movie camera picks up until its practically flying until it clears a mountain range, one that had been pretty distant up until a few minutes ago, to reveal the mother of all battles. Like two colonies of ants going to war with each other, two opposing forces composed of large numbers clash in the battle to end all battles. For a moment the camera just hovers over the battle scene, making you think that you'll never be shown any close ups, then in the blink of an eye you're in the thick of things getting knocked from one point of view to another. In that instant you begin to recognize some of the combatants as people you call friend, some you call family and others you can just barely put names too at the moment.

Grifter.

Zealot.

The WildC.A.Ts.

Slayton.

Savant.

Stormwatch.

As well as a bunch of other people he didn't recognize and they were all fighting these guys decked out with some serious sci-fi hardware being ordered by a guy he decided to nickname Mr. Bic on account of his flaming skull head. It was a battle straight out of a big budget action film with well-choreographed fights and a well put together mass fight scene with none of the fighters tripping over each other by accident and ruining the effect. He knew, though, that this was no scripted out fight scene and that people really were getting hurt or killed on this battlefield, but with no knowledge of how it came about he had no other way of describing it. The battle raged around him and while he was not a part of it in the sense that he was not fighting, he could feel that it was not going well for those he called family and friends. Despite their valor and courage, they were simply too outnumbered and the leader of the enemy too powerful for them to easily overcome. Even the person he named Mr. Majestic didn't seem to be able to do much more than keep ol' propane puss occupied for a few minutes at a time before being blasted away. Desiring to do something, **anything**, to turn this battle back in favor of those who fought for the light, he pushed with all he had for the camera, his eyes he figured, to go where he wanted them to go rather than where the action was most potent. Like a person that had, up until that moment, been preoccupied with something else the camera that represented his eyes obeyed his commands and he panned it across the battlefield looking for some means of turning the tide in favor of the WildC.A.Ts and their allies. However, every direction he looked in he only saw the conflict, the fighting and the struggling of one side against another with no player being enough to change the course of the battle.

It wasn't until the view panned upwards a bit, away from the main battlefield, that he spotted something big and nasty. Shaped like a big black bird, he couldn't make out exactly what it was but it had a feeling of an agent of death about it causing a chill to run through him as he looked at it. At once he knew that this is what the combatants were fighting over and knew that without it the battle might actually come to a stop since there'd no longer be a prize to fight for. Willing himself to approach the dark shape sitting on the cliff above the battlefield, his plan was to get in close then put all his heart and soul into tearing that thing apart. If tearing it apart was not an option, he'd settle for scaring the thing off and getting it to makes its nest someplace else. Either outcome worked for him since it would put an end to the fighting for at least a little while.

However, just as he was about to touch down on his target, a malevolent force popped up out of nowhere and flung him backwards into the air. Willing himself to stop, he hung there mid-air wondering what the hell had shoved him away from the ship and the response he got was a cape wearing, humanoid shaped silhouette standing atop the black bird's back. It was laughing at him, laughing like it was amused by his amateurish plan, and standing beside him was a man and a woman whose defining features were hidden by shadow. Then, like water being absorbed into a sponge, they became one with the black bird and he instinctively knew that this was a bad thing. His feeling was proven true when he watched the WildC.A.Ts break through the enemy lines and make a mad dash for the ship, no doubt to stop whatever the horned monster man's plan was. However, as he watched them draw closer and closer to the bird, a feeling of almost paralyzing dread began to well up within him. Somehow he knew that if they went into that ship there'd be no coming out for any of them.

EVER.

With the speed of someone desperately trying to prevent their worst nightmare from coming to pass, he does all he can to keep the C.A.Ts, especially Zealot and Grifter, from entering the bird like horn head had just moments ago. Yet even though he knows he is going all out he never seems to be going fast enough and, in pain-driven moves, he cries out to them not to enter the bird. The others ignore him but Cole hears him and looks up at him with a questioning look on his face. That is apparently enough to cost him his seat on the black bird of death since almost immediately after Grifter looks up at him the black thing shaped like a bird began to rise into the sky. At first its pace was slow and anyone with flight capabilities could have easily caught up with it but then once it went past the fifty feet mark it shot upwards like a bullet. Not willing to lose even one person he considered to be a part of his heart, he willed himself to follow the rapidly-rising raptor. All the way he believed that if he could just get close enough, he could tear his friends and Zealot out of the bird before it was too late. Too late for what he couldn't say but with every mile of altitude the black form managed to gain in its ascent, he knew it was getting closer to something he would not be able to save anyone from. Harder and harder he pushes himself, to the brink of breaking himself in two, yet it is useless because no matter how hard he tried, he cannot close the gap between himself and the form carrying his mother.

Then it happens.

In the blink of an eye an explosion of light is released so intense that it blinds him completely.

Too bad he can't say the same about his other senses because, less than second after being blinded, he is feeling himself becoming enveloped in pain both physical as well as emotional. He screams, screams of loss and of terrible pain, and it is only when someone's hand grasps his own that it all vanishes.

However he knows, subconsciously, that this is only a brief reprieve because the pain will return soon.

This he knows.

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Back in the Waking World, 5:15 a.m 

"Xander! Wake up! Wake up!" Slayton yelled as he tried to use his own psionic abilities to knock the kid out of whatever nightmare he was going through, "You've got to bring yourself under control!!"

"Aaahhhhh!" Xander exclaimed as he sat upright in bed like he'd had a bucket of cold water dumped on him.

That brought the excitement to an end and this was a good thing too since any more excitement and not only would the cabin have come crashing down but the psychic dampers place around the HALO property perimeter would have been unable to keep the kid's psi-energy from being detected by outside eyes. It had all started about hour ago, starting as nothing more than sounds of a restless sleep, but it grew to be more than that with every minute that went by until a storm erupted. A storm of psi-energy as potent as the emotions powering it and causing everything lighter than a pickup truck to be lifted and thrown around like so much crumpled up newspaper. It had taken just about everything he had to make it to Xander's room and get to his side in the hopes that he could wake the boy up. If one ignored the chaotic whirlwind of energy and destruction surrounding the kid, you would just assume he was having a normal everyday nightmare. The problem is that the son of Cole Cash was far from normal and with the amount of psi-power at his disposal, the nightmare is able to manifest itself in the real world as well as inside Xander's mind.

Tapping into his own psi-powers as well as the mojo that he shared with the other members of Team 7, he had fought his way into Harris' mind in an effort to dispel the nightmare from within. It was like trying to move in a wind tunnel with the fans going full tilt but, bit by bit, he managed to make it to where the kid's mind was and make contact. However the moment he did make contact he experienced exactly what Xander was going through and it nearly shattered his concentration. Pain. Unbridled primal pain that was both physical and emotional in nature. Reflexively he withdrew from the kid and broke contact in order to re-establish his focused state. Once back in control he had then gone with another means of getting the kid out and one that was probably not too pleasant for the kid. Lashing out mentally with one of his psi-whips, he wrapped one around the kid's arm and yanked for all he was worth taking them back to the waking world.

That pretty much summed up the last twenty minutes, but now with the crisis over with he began to wonder if it'd really be possible for the kid to bring his powers under control. What the boy had displayed was power on a level he'd never seen before and that was when the kid was asleep. Chaotic and undirected, that power had almost taken the cabin apart and also sent up a big psi-sign for everyone to see, telling them where to find their lost Omega level seedling. If it had not been for the psi-dampers Marlowe had set up around the property's perimeter, anyone looking for the boy would have known exactly where to find him. So much power at the fingertips of someone barely old enough to drive and so naïve as far as how the world really worked, even with his knowledge of demons, vampires and magic the boy is still innocent of the uglier things that exist in this world: the Miles Craven's, the Daemonites, the Warguard and dozens of other threats that would send the public into a frenzied panic if they were to become aware of them. Which way would the boy turn when he finally saw the world as it truly was and what choice would he make as to what side he would be on?

_I guess I'll just have to hope that my training and the stubbornness he probably inherited from Grifter will be enough to keep the final sanction from ever having to be employed._ He thought as he began to calm the kid down and give him an edited review of what had happened.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

One Week Later, Morning 

_What have I become?_ Xander asked himself as he looked out at the forest laid out before him.

It was a question he found himself asking more and more since that night seven days ago when he almost demolished everything around him, including Slayton and LaSalle. He had known from the moment he had woken up in the hospital in Oxnard that he had been changed somehow, that he was different from how he was before, but the full meaning of the change had never really sunk in. He had just told himself that now he was more like Buffy, still human but with some upgrades added on, but without the 'destiny' part attached. Even when the WildC.A.Ts had told him that he had quite a bit of power at his disposal he had never really comprehended what that meant. It was only during the training sessions with Slayton that he had begun to understand what everyone was talking about when they said he had power now. However, even then, he figured that he was just another person in the crowd, nothing special or extraordinary, just one more warrior in training.

After what happened that night, he knew he could no longer afford to think like that if he truly wanted to gain control over his new abilities. He had to accept the fact that he was no longer a member of a support team but more a player in his own right with all the responsibilities that entailed. One such responsibility was learning to control his abilities to such a degree that the possibility of anything happening with then that was not done according to his will was virtually impossible. He would have to train more strictly and with more focus than he ever had before until he could not only meet the expectations of Slayton but surpass them seven times out of ten. From there on out he intended to beat any goal set by him by setting new ones that were twice as difficult if at all possible. He'd do it because he didn't want his powers to control him, but to be the one to control them instead.

He'd do it because he didn't think he'd be able to live with himself if someone got seriously hurt or died because of these powers Fate seemed willing to drop in his lap all of a sudden.

"Hey there Slayton junior! What's with the doom and gloom look?" Came a familiar voice that he'd heard off and on since the first day they met.

Turning around, he saw Amanda Reed walking up to the boulder he'd plunked himself down on from the path leading up to the main highway. While he couldn't exactly call her a friend, the one thing he could be certain of was that with her around things were definitely going to be a lot more exciting than before. Unfortunately that excitement tended to come in the form of yelling matches with Diane LaSalle and not so subtle flirting with Slayton. Reed is definitely **not** a woman who was afraid to speak her mind and use her feminine wiles to get what she wanted. Needless to say he hoped that she and Faith never wound up meeting each other because, if they did, the color of his skin would be Willow-red for weeks.

"Just thinking about the future, Red Reed." He said deciding to shift things to the funny before she decided to play shrink, "Like what I'm going to call myself when I get a costume an' all. Any ideas?"

"Hmmmm… Backlash Junior?" She asked tentatively with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing with 'junior' in it. It'll just lead to more trouble down the line when I go independent." He replied half seriously and half humorously.

"Drifter?" She suggested, obviously playing on the fact that his dad's hero name is Grifter.

"Nnnnnnnah! A grifter is someone who scams people for personal gain. A drifter is just some bum that goes from town to town with nothing but the clothes on his back." He said, not entirely opposed to the name but definitely looking for something better.

"Well what about Mindsight? After all you're telepathic right? And you have that telekinetic stuff, oh, and then there's your ability to see into the future." Reed said sounding like she was actually putting some thought into this rather than just playing around.

"Not bad, definite possibility, but let's keep going and see what we come up with." He said actually liking the way that codename sounded for the most part.

"What about Foresight?" She suggested with a look that her opinion of that name was high, "After all that's what one of your abilities can do and it could be used to describe your telepathy too."

_Of all the names she had to come up with!_ He thought as the redhead unwittingly stumbled upon the name Dr. Sing had given the project that had given birth to him, _I'll be damned before I use that name in reference to myself!_

"Well I'm sure you'll think of something, but 'til then how about you ditch classes for today and come into town with me?" She asked indicating with a jerk of her head the motorcycle she'd come here on, "We'll grab a bite to eat and then spin by the local comic shop and see if the nerds have any good ideas."

"Hey! We prefer the term 'coolness challenged' if you don't mind!" He said with his jester voice, "Still, I'm not sure it'd be worth the hour lecture Slayton'll probably give the both of us when we get back."

"Don't worry! He's so dead set on giving his 'girlfriend' a workout I doubt he'll even miss us." Amanda said dismissively with a little venom in her description of Major LaSalle, "I even think they have some kind of romantic dinner thing planned this evening so we'll be doing them a favor."

_If the champagne in the refrigerator is any hint she's probably right about the romantic evening. _He thought, remembering what he spotted earlier when he was getting a breakfast together after getting out of bed.

"Well I suppose one day off wouldn't hurt and if it helps out Slayton then I'm all for it." He said getting to his feet, "But you're the one who's going to explain things to Slayton when we get back."

"I **don't** think that'll be a problem." Reed said in a puzzling tone that he couldn't quite place.

That said, the two of them walked back to the motorcycle parked at the top of the path near the highway and took off for the nearest city.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Late Evening, Next to the Cabin 

"Man! What a day!" Xander crowed as he slid off Reed's motorbike with plastic bag in hand.

Spending the day with Reed was definitely preferable to another of drill sergeant Slayton's full day workout sessions, even if he **was** going to pay for it later. He knew that the second that Eric laid eyes on him, he was in for one helluva lecture followed by **at least** three days of the most painful training he could conceive of. Still, it had been worth it because Amanda, or Taboo as she sometimes asked him to call her, was an absolute BLAST to be with when she had a mind to have fun. The field trip started out with seriously nerve racking motorcycle ride into town where he was certain Reed's mission had been to get him to piss his pants from the way she was driving. Fortunately, after having to endure a ride on MIRV with Jacob Marlowe at the wheel had given him a pretty high tolerance for death defying rides.

From there it had been a little brunch before taking in a flick at the local cinema before following through on her earlier promise of spinning by a comic book shot to see if any of the local geeks could come up with a half decent codename. Esper, Alexander and Foresight were some of the better names that came up but there was one he couldn't help but groan at which unfortunately got Reed intrigued enough to drag the origin story out of big time. Naturally it had been some mousy blonde that, only minutes before, he'd tossed a few dollars on the counter so she could buy a model kit she'd been desperate to buy. The girl had suggested the name White Knight, since he had done in her mind a chivalrous deed and that he certainly looked like he could pass himself off as one with the right costume. He'd explained to Reed, more or less, that he'd been given the nickname by an enemy back in Sunnydale because he had been willing to possibly die to protect someone he cared for and because of his somewhat rigid code of honor. Of course she'd had a few minutes of fun fitting in that nickname or some variation of it for the rest of the afternoon. Fortunately when he'd snapped at her particularly harshly, she'd gotten the hint and stopped trying to have a good life at his expense.

They'd grabbed a bite to eat and were about to head home when Reed had insisted that they take one last spin back to the comic book shop. According to her she'd seen something in the store that was being offered as top prize in a lottery of some kind and she wanted to see if she'd won. Remembering vaguely that there had been a rather popular drawing going on and deciding he owed her something for snapping at her like he had, he agreed to go along for the ride. When they'd arrived it turned out to be Taboo's lucky day because she had indeed won the grand prize, but when the owner of the place put it on the counter he couldn't help but look back and forth between Reed and the prize. It was a stylish variation on the helmet worn by intergalactic bounty hunter Boba Fett of Star Wars fame. It was more or less the same design-wise but it was clear that whoever made it had taken a few artistic liberties with it. For one thing it was more form fitting in the sense that it was obviously designed to wrap a little tighter around the head of the wearer. Another was the color scheme that was primarily black where the green in Boba Fett's helmet would be and the coal colored part where the actor wearing the Mandalorian helmet would see through was now a dusty sort of metallic red. As for the parts that were usually red on Fett's helmet they were made to be a dark grey color and that kept him from labeling it a Sith Mandalorian's helmet. There was no weird looking antenna on the side but, according to the owner, the Star Wars fan that had designed the helmet had claimed you could have a walkie talkie like radio installed in the side if one wanted one. All in all it was pretty impressive, especially since it was made of real durable-feeling metal rather than plastic and foam like he'd expected. Apparently the person who made this was a serious fan of the movie series and had wanted to make a completely realistic helmet that could actually take something of a beating in a fight. Xander couldn't argue with the shop owner there because, from his personal experience with fighting close up, he knew that something this tough would definitely be able to take a few solid hits before showing any damage.

He'd waited until they were back at the cycle before he'd asked Reed how exactly she'd won the helmet and she said that there had just been a slip of paper and a question to answer. When she didn't elaborate further he'd prodded her by saying that the question must have been tough for it to be used in a draw like that. She'd tried to brush it off as just a bit of good luck but when he had given her 'yeah and I have a bridge to sell you look', she'd caved but only if he promised not to tell anyone else. After making the promise, he'd learned that back when she had been in jail there had been a seriously small collection of reading material to choose from where she was being kept. Due to the person in charge of supply requisitions being a complete Star Wars fanatic, a large portion of the prison library had been material connected to the movie. So stuck between a collection of law books and Star Wars material, she'd gone with the latter, believing it'd only be slightly less boring. By the time Slayton had come along with the promise of helping her clear her name, she swore she had to have read every single one of the books at least ten times, so most of the facts were committed to memory whether she liked it or not. For a moment he had been tempted to needle her for a while about being brainwashed into being a fan of the Force, but decided that he wasn't that mean and it was getting late.

From there they'd gotten about halfway back to the cabin before Reed pulled into a gas station along the way to fill up the bike. He'd taken the opportunity to slip in and grab a two liter of pop and some chips, figuring that it might soften the lecture he'd get from Backlash later if he came bearing gifts. True, he figured that Slayton would probably have preferred beer but seeing as how he wasn't a fan of the stuff and he doubted the man at the cash register would let him buy it, he went with the next best thing. From there things had taken a turn for the weird when Reed all of a sudden suggested that he take the bike by himself and head back to the cabin. When he'd inquired as to why, she said that she didn't feel like walking in on the lovebirds and felt like walking the rest of the way. A perfectly logical answer but something had told him that there was more to it than that, but without something more to work with he couldn't think of a single reason to stick around. So with a roar of a powerful engine and no cops in sight, he had torn off back to the cabin as fast as he felt he could safely drive without killing himself.

That had pretty much brought him to where he was now, two hours and one speeding ticket later next to the cabin. Naturally, he wouldn't tell Slayton that he'd 'borrowed' some cash from his wallet before heading out with Reed or that he had been caught doing nearly twice the speed limit on his way back. After all, that'd just be a needless distraction to his trainer and it'd be better to put it to use in tomorrow's workout regimen. However, as he walked up to the front of the cabin, he noticed something kind of odd all things considered, considering he was expecting both LaSalle and Slayton to be asleep in bed together by this point in the evening. At least he'd prefer that they be asleep in bed at the moment rather than, say making loud love to one another thus keeping him up for a couple of hours. Catching his mind before he went too far, he shook his head to clear it of any images that would plague him, like Snyder in leather, and opened the door to go inside. What he found only got his paranoia senses buzzing louder as he noticed an unfinished meal on the table by the window, what looked like an unopened wedding ring box and from what he could tell a cabin deserted of all but him.

_Not the most promising opening scenario that's for sure. _He thought to himself as he put his bags down by the door and proceeded carefully towards the bedrooms, _Still not 'red alert' worthy just yet._

Doing his best to remain all stealthy, he crept closer to the door of the bedroom he knew that LaSalle and Slayton usually slept in. Focusing on his hearing, he listened carefully for any sign that there was someone in the room or hopefully two people since two would be normal but one would be decidedly abnormal. Unfortunately either super hearing was not included in his design or there really was no one in the room to hear period. That led him to tentatively try to use his telepathy to sense if there were any minds in the room sleeping or otherwise. Fortunately for him this was pretty easy since it only required that he touch their minds without actually doing anything to those minds once contact was made. He wouldn't even be reading their surface thoughts but instead merely sensing neural activity consistent with a living being. It was one of the things Slayton had him randomly do from time to time before or after one of their training sessions. He would close his eyes and then like a ghost (which considering Backlash's mist power was a distinct possibility) Eric would vanish and it'd be up to him to locate him without the former I.O/Stormwatch member knowing it. While he hadn't quite managed the 'without the target knowing it' part, he had been able to find Slayton seven times out of ten and that, according to him, was pretty impressive. Nevertheless, though, his telepathy picked up nothing in the room consistent with human thought or any other kind of mind for that matter. A quick scan of his own room quickly determined that they weren't in there by mistake, which meant his earlier assumption that he was the only one in the cabin was accurate.

_Okay! Situation definitely getting wiggy!_ He thought as he tried to come up with a plausible explanation for this odd turn of events.

His first idea was that LaSalle and Slayton had just gone out and lost track of time, but if that was the case he knew that Slayton would have left a note of some kind. Looking about in all the places where he figured the military man would leave such a note for him to find, he found nothing that hadn't been there already when he'd left for his introspective thinking session earlier in the day. His next theory was still that the two lovebirds had gone out and simply lost track of time, but considering that it was almost midnight and there was no sign of them put the kibosh on that idea. Even allowing for some hanky panky, he doubted they'd do the real serious stuff out in the woods when they had a comfy bed waiting for them right here. True, they may have taken him into consideration, but that would more than likely have them checking into a local hotel and that would still have warranted a note being left for him. Deciding that it was time to be a little nosy, he went over to the answering machine by the phone to see if any suspicious messages had been left.

"Slayton this is Amanda. I know this is probably a **bad** time… but Cyberjack said I could always call on you if I was in trouble. Well, I am and in a big way." Came Amanda's worried voice from the answering machine, "Look I know you're probably a bit mad that me and Xander went off on our own but the kid looked like he really needed something to take his mind off things. Anyway, we were on our way back when he noticed someone trailing us from town. I sent the kid on ahead hoping that they'd leave him be and it looks like they have, but I think I'm going to need some backup so please head out to the gas station about an hour out of town on the main highway okay? Please hurry Eric."

_Amanda's in trouble! That was why she said I could take the bike back! _He thought in shock as he replayed the vents in his mind, _She probably made this call after I left and that was over two hours ago!_

Could this have been the reason for Slayton being missing along with LaSalle? Possible, but not likely since he knew that Marlowe kept some pretty swift vehicles here that would make the motorbike he rode look like a snail by comparison. If Backlash had gotten this message, he would have taken off after Reed like a rocket, even if he was having dinner with Diane at the moment. While he had no doubt that the guy really liked the Major, he also knew that the man took paying back his debts seriously. There was no way he'd leave Taboo high and dry just to continue an 'interesting' night with his girlfriend. So, seeing as how the throw down had probably happened not long after he left and Red and White hadn't made it back before him, odds were that Backlash hadn't heard this message.

Seeing that there was one more recording, he tapped a button to listen to it, hoping that it would provide him with an idea of where Slayton and LaSalle were right at that moment.

"Marc? Look I know you probably don't want me contacting you like this, what with the warrant still out on you, but something's come up. Something **BIG,**" came a voice he remembered belonging to Ms. Pale in Pink from Oxnard, "I need to meet with you right away. It's not safe discussing this over the phone. Meet me at Battalion's place in two hours. Please be on time."

With that the message ended and Xander found it leaving him two possible sources of trouble, both indicating some serious trouble was coming down the line. He didn't know where Slayton was at the moment, but he knew that when the former member of Skywatch got back to the cabin decisions were going to be made in a rush one way or another. The decision he had to make was: what was **he** going to do? He knew that the second Marc got fully briefed on the situation he'd likely try and plunk him down with a friend or acquaintance appropriately in the know but not likely to come under fire any time soon. That option, of course, was going to get vetoed immediately by him since there was no way he was going to get stuck on the sidelines while Reed was in danger and a potential apocalypse was taking form for the spandex wearing crowd. He'd try at first to persuade Backlash that it'd be easier to just take him along rather than make him stay out of harm's way and if that didn't work he'd do his level headed best to follow the snow haired guy while being annoying every step of the way. After all, Slayton struck him as the kind of guy that liked to stay invisible until the last possible moment and that meant that having him making enough racket to wake the dead would be a serious problem for him.

A problem, of course, that could be solved by giving in and letting him come along.

So with that in mind he went inside and began to suit up in his demon fighting gear, including the pair of VAD PP-30 pistols that he figured Cole had slipped into his bag when no one was looking. With a sword, shotgun, two Desert Eagles and two VAD PP-30 pistols he'd be ready for just about anything shy of an actual army of goons. If **that** happened, though, he'd have the smarts to either send up an S.O.S to anybody of a mind to save his ass or run like an army of Snyder's was after him.

From start to finish it took him about ten minutes to slip, strap or buckle everything on and it was then that an idea popped into his head when he spotted the helmet that Reed had won for him. He knew that his face was probably on the top ten list of every major law enforcement and S.P.B team in the world by now and that one of Slayton's arguments was probably going to center around that particular issue. After all, if he was going to get involved in some potentially world-ending trouble, it would only make things worse if their 'allies' in Stormwatch spotted him. Also letting whoever the bad guys were get a good look at his mug probably wasn't a great idea either since it'd just add one more enemy to list of ones he had already. So what all that meant was that he had to figure out a way to conceal his face from unworthy eyes and, if he was right, the helmet that looked like a modernized version of a Mandalorian helmet would do just that.

_It just needs a __**slight**__ touch up to make it perfect. _He thought as an image of the finished product appeared in his mind.


	5. Trial by Fire

Disclaimer: I do not own the copyrighted material featured in this fanfic. It belongs to the creators and associated companies.

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_**A Secluded Port Near the Gulf of Mexico, One Week Later**_

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this!" Slayton muttered as he did one last check on his Backlash equipment.

"Just let it go, Backlash! You knew the moment you walked back into that cabin a week ago that I wasn't just going to sit this thing out." Came Xander's voice crackling through the communications gear attached to the left side of his head, "If the world's coming to an end then there's only one place I want to be and that's on the front lines trying to save it. Besides it's not like you could have stopped me from coming anyway!"

Marc wanted to deny that claim but he knew that if Xander had inherited any of Cole Cash's personality traits then nothing short of locking the kid in a cryo-tube would have kept the son of Grifter from tagging along somehow. At least this way he'd know where the kid was instead of getting surprised at a crucial moment resulting in everything going pear shaped on him. Still he'd do his best to make sure that the teenager stayed well clear of the danger zone since despite the progress the young man had been making Alexander LaVelle Harris was nowhere near battle ready.

_Especially if what Diva told me is true. _He thought as his mind wandered back to the talk he'd had with his former Stormwatch comrade at Battalion's gravesite.

&&&&FLASHBACK&&&&&&

Standing there looking down at the tombstone for one of the best commander's ever to be assigned to Skywatch he couldn't help but feel an infuriating itch between his shoulder blades as well as a headache coming on.

The first was because of the person he was supposed to be meeting here, an old friend from his days as a member of Skywatch, because there was a distinct probability that he was walking into a trap of some kind. Ever since he had broken Taboo out of Purgatory Max he'd been officially placed on the top ten most wanted list and while he wanted to believe that Diva wouldn't betray him he couldn't rule it out either. What he'd done he'd done for selfish reasons and he couldn't expect his former comrades to understand why he had done what he'd done nor look the other way on his behalf. Every member of Stormwatch took their jobs seriously and as such wouldn't hesitate to take him in if given the opportunity even if they wound up feeling back about it later. Still the urgent tone in Diva's message was enough that he was willing to expose himself in order to find out what the big crisis was and why she wanted his help.

The headache was from Xander's less than subtle efforts at eavesdropping on the conversation by telepathically connecting to eyes and ears. When he'd returned to the cabin late at night after his argument with his ex-girlfriend Diane LaSalle he found himself being welcomed by a stranger dressed similar to Grifter but with a helmet straight out of Star Wars. Fortunately it took him less than a second to identify the stranger as Xander and it was a good thing too since otherwise he might have seriously hurt the teenager. After a few failed muffled attempts at talking the boy eventually took off the helmet and explained the situation to him from the messages on the answering machine to being all geared up for battle. By Xander's logic he'd need backup no matter which call for aide he answered first and so the blue-eyed kid chose to volunteer himself as that backup. Naturally he had vehemently said no stating that he'd drop Xander off at a friend's place and then go off to do what needed to be done. Of course the young man had turned things around on him pointing out that there weren't a great many people that could be trusted with an omega level psionic being sought after by just about every major power on Earth. In the end he had grudgingly agreed to let Xander tag along but only under the condition that the boy would follow whatever orders he was given to the letter. NO EXCEPTIONS!

_Didn't believe him for a second when he'd agreed of course. _He thought as his ears began to pick up footfalls on grass behind him, _I just hope the kid has sense enough to know when he's in over his head or else I'm either going to die trying to save his ass or trying to dodge Zealot and Grifter when they come after me for getting their son killed._

"We both know it's dangerous for you to be talking to me so why are you pushing your luck, Diva?" he asked without even turning to see who it was that was walking up behind him.

"I don't have much of a choice, Marc." Diva replied making it clear with her voice that the situation was serious, "There's a… situation. It involves the Daemonites."

"My favorite people." He stated in perfect deadpan, since his opinion of the aliens that had caused Diane LaSalle so much trouble was well known.

"It's serious, end-of-the-world serious. A creature called Helspont is a Lord in the Daemonite hierarchy. We thought he was dead, but he's on the loose again." Diva explained as she laid out the situation for her former comrade, "Intelligence believes he intends to reclaim the Daemonite dreadnaught—the starship that brought him here. We know it's buried in Nicaragua, but we don't know where."

"Nice place for a vacation, Nicaragua." He commented again not taking a position one way or another on this information.

"Apparently three keys are needed to operate the dreadnaught. Helspont's already got one and part of another." Diva said continuing her explanation of the situation, "Marc, you have to understand this. If the dreadnaught is even half as powerful as we suspect, Helspont could use it to literally destroy the world. This is Armageddon we're talking about."

"And you want me to stop him." He said deciding that it was time to jump to the end of the tale rather than waste time beating around the bush, "Why not send Stormwatch?"

"Red tape. U.N bureaucrats debating instead of acting." She replied with her frustration concerning the top brass evident, "I need somebody who can go after Helspont right now. We've tracked him to his ship, the Behemoth, in the Gulf of Mexico. I can give you the coordinates, probably even some hardware to get you there. Please, Marc. You're the best chance I've got. The only chance."

"Diva, after all I've been through lately…" he said as he recalled what he went through to get Diane back and her recent departure, "I just want to put my life back together. But you did me a solid telling me where to find Diane. I owe you. Look's like I'm your man."

"Thank you, Marc. You really don't know what this means." Diva said with genuine gratitude.

"Hey, you take care of your friends, right?" he said brushing off her gratitude as just another day at the office, "Hell, I never could say no to you, Diva. Tragedy what happened to Battalion, huh? He was one of the best. How's everyone taking it? How's Synergy?"

"Oh, uh…okay. We're all…getting over it." Diva replied with a little uncertainty on her voice, "I'd better go. You should get moving too, Marc. The sooner you start looking for Helspont the sooner you'll find him."

&&&&&&END FLASHBACK&&&&&&&&&

It still bothered him to this very moment how off Diva's last words to him sounded. He had initially brushed it off as just residual sadness and grief at the loss of Battalion but despite that his inner danger sense was nagging him to look closer at those last few moments. With a shake of his head he decided to shelve the concern for the time being since it was more important to focus on the task at hand especially since Xander would be tagging along.

"Okay, here's how it's going to happen, Xander. Take it or leave it. Diva was only able to get us a single hover skimmer, so we're both going to be riding on it but I'll be the one doing the driving," he said, making it clear these conditions were law as far as he was concerned. "I have a fairly good idea where this Behemoth ship is so it won't take long to get there. Once we do get there, though, I'll be going in, alone, while you withdraw to a safe distance."

"Alone!? There's no telling how many Daemonite's are on that ship! Plus the rank of Lord among baddies is usually a sign that they're either smarter or stronger than all the others. Sometimes both!" Xander exclaimed not liking the idea of his teacher taking on Helspont alone.

"True enough. It probably would be foolish to try and fight Helspont head on." he stated calmly and casually, "However I'm not going there to beat him. I'm going there to 'borrow' the two keys that Diva said he has and then make my getaway. Without them he won't be able to get his dreadnaught off the ground and will probably spend quite a bit of time chasing me trying to get them back. That should give Stormwatch enough time to find the dreadnaught themselves and do what they do best."

"Assuming that you even make it off the Behemoth once you get your hands on those keys," Xander pointed out obviously willing to argue the scenario further. "Baddies tend to get pretty pissed when something of theirs gets stolen. They tend to react 'violently' and 'permanently', if you know what I mean. You'd stand a better chance of getting out of there in one piece if you had your own 'Big Gun' that could blast Helspont away before he fries you."

"Normally I would but you're still leaking psionic energy all over the place even if it is noticeably less than when Cole first dropped you off. Helspont has considerable psionic powers of his own according to Diva's intelligence files and who knows how many years learning how to use them. It's going to take everything I have to muffle your psi-noise enough so you won't give us away on approach." He said as he walked over to the hover skimmer and got on, "You might have the power to match Helspont, but not the skill. Now let's get going. It's almost sunset so we should be able to sneak up to them without being spotted visually."

Even though it was probably meant to be so soft so as not to be heard the communication headset inside of Xander's helmet picked up everything so he heard several choice words about him as well as Skywatch. He felt himself smile at what he heard both because of the imaginative phrases and because he'd thought the same things over the course of his career in the military. Even the colourful words directed at him were things that he himself had thought on occasion in particularly bad situations. As he felt the added weight of Xander on the hover skimmer he had a feeling that even with his stern orders to stay clear of the Behemoth until called Alex would still try to get involved in the fighting. He was a lot like his father in that regard, jumping into situations headfirst in order to help a friend, but he hoped that the kid would at least think a little before jumping in. Taking on Helspont head on without a plan or a strategy would be dangerous enough for a trained soldier like him and probably fatal for Xander. It would take one helluva bit of good luck for the young man to be able to last against the Daemonite Lord for more than four minutes.

_Still, if this kid's stories about Sunnydale are true then he has an uncanny ability to survive situations that should have killed him three times over._ He thought as the engine of the skimmer hummed to life, _I just hope that his luck holds until this mission is over._

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_**Five Hundred Meters Away From the Behemoth, Forty Minutes Later**_

_This situation has definitely managed to defy the laws of physics because it definitely manages to suck and blow at the same time!_ Xander thought as he sat on the skimmer with arms crossed and if he were a cartoon character he'd definitely have smoke rising from his ears.

It wasn't that he didn't understand Backlash's reasoning behind him staying behind, he understood it completely, he just hated sitting on the sidelines when he could do much more good in the thick of things. He felt exactly as he had when the gang had attempted to force him out of the slaying in order to keep him 'safe' and time had most definitely not improved his opinion on such moves any. The fact of the matter was that he had chosen to fight the good fight despite the danger he'd be placing himself in and no one had right to make his choices for him in this matter. The only thing that had caused him to obey Backlash's orders was that he was worried about how things would go his first time in battle. While it was true he had managed to gain a fair grasp of everything that Marc had taught him he had yet to put what he had learned to the ultimate test of battle. If he got involved there wouldn't be anyone who could intervene if things got too hairy for him or potentially lethal.

He'd be on his own.

_Then again, how would that be any different from fighting vamps in Sunnydale?_ He thought as he looked in the direction of the Behemoth to see if there was anything troubling going on.

There had been a few explosions and smoke but nothing that wasn't consistent with an S.P.B (Super Powered Being) fight and while he definitely had an itch to get in there and lend a hand, he chose instead to put his faith in Backlash's ability. He just hoped that the old man wouldn't be so determined to keep him out of harm's way that he'd sooner die than send out an S.O.S to him.

It wasn't until eight minutes later that he saw his first sign of how the battle inside the ship had gone and it was not encouraging in the least. Walking out onto the deck of the Behemoth, clad in gold, purple and red, was without a doubt the Daemonite known as Helspot as evidenced by the fact that he had a flaming skull for a head. The bad part came in when he got a clear look at what the villain was carrying which turned out to be an unconscious and badly beaten up Backlash. It was clear that his instructor had put up a valiant fight against the evil alien but, in the end, was either out thought or overpowered, thus losing the fight. He knew that from this distance, he was just guessing that Marc was unconscious and that there was a distinct possibility that he…was…dead. NO! He refused to believe that because if that turned out to be the case then it would be up to him and him alone to stop Helspont from enacting his plan for either planetary domination or extermination. Deciding that he couldn't do anything fancy from where he was, he revved up the hover skimmer and began his approach to the Behemoth. As he started, though, he sent a single beam of psionic energy at Backlash in the hopes that it might act as a slap in the face and wake the old man up. Bringing the skimmer up to its top speed, he advanced on his destination and, one minute later, was given a hint of good luck as he saw Backlash's psi-whip shoot out of his left hand and wrap around Helspont's leg, dragging both hero and villain into the water below.

_While it would be nice, I think it'll take more than simple H2O to put ol' propane puss' fire out._ He thought as both combatants came to the surface, _Looks like I'll be cleaning up after Slayton this time around. _

Xander was slightly surprised when he saw some kind of energy surge come out of Backlash and knock Helspont for a loop but, as he saw the alien despot right himself in mid-air, he knew it had not been enough to end the fight. However, as he sensed a growing concentration of power within the Daemonite Lord, he knew that if he allowed the next attack to hit then it would be all over for Slayton. Thus, with his neophyte telekinetic abilities and a little inspiration from his X-Men comic books, he channeled the energy across the space between him and the fighters and formed a barrier between Marc and the Daemonite. He put as much of his willpower and strength into it as possible in order to make sure that no matter how potent the attack the barrier would hold.

It was less than ten seconds later when the Daemonite fired his attack at Backlash that he was shown exactly where he stood in this confrontation.

The second that the attack hit his barrier, it was like a painfully throbbing headache had sprung into existence with the possibility of getting worse looming on the horizon. Nevertheless, it did what he wanted it to do and prevented the onslaught of energy from hitting his mentor even a little bit. Maintaining his concentration, Xander held the barrier up until Helspont ceased his barrage, no doubt in confusion, and allowed him to take something of a breather. He had never before felt his powers being put under such strain and now realized more than ever before why Slayton had ordered him to keep his distance from the fight. While he may have performed well in training, the only reason he had not gotten seriously hurt was because Backlash had been pulling his punches the entire time. He would receive no such quarter from the Daemonites and certainly not from Helspont and that meant that he had to put things up a notch if he intended to survive this encounter. Pulling one of his VAD PP-30 pistols from its holster beneath his armpit, Xander immediately began to lay down some distracting fire in order to give Backlash some time to recover. Judging from the lack of movement, it was clear that the energy surge he had used to knock the Daemonite Lord back had taken quite a toll on him. Marc would likely recover if given enough time and thus it was his job to give his teacher that time anyway that he could.

"Another annoyance?" Asked the Daemonite Lord with some frustration as it reoriented itself towards the approaching obstacle. "And one with power as well. Very well, let us see just how far your power can take you!"

With all the drama of a big budget movie villain, Helspont unleashed another torrent of psionic energy outwards from his hands except this time it was aimed squarely at one Xander Harris. Not believing that the hover skimmer would be quick enough or agile enough to evade the blast, he decided to take a leap of faith, both figuratively as well as literally. It was a technique he had only seen in comic books up until now but based on what he knew from his training, he believed he'd be able to pull it off. Of course he'd had no practice at it whatsoever, but the situation wasn't giving him that many favorable alternatives so he went for it. Using his telekinesis, he lifted himself into the air as fast as his willpower could carry him, allowing him to evade the Daemonite's psi-blast entirely. Unfortunately the hover skimmer wasn't so lucky as it was reduced to so much scrap sinking to the bottom of the gulf by Helspont's blast. His flying was unstable and jerky in nature, which he had no doubt ol' propane puss would catch onto quick, so he decided that this time he would be the one to make a display of power. Putting as much pain and disorientation into his attack as he could, he unleashed a mind blast at Helspont for the expressed purpose of knocking the alien parasite off balance.

"ARGH!!" Helspont bellowed as the villain was struck head on by the blast and, because it was unexpected, only minimal barriers were in place to stand up to the assault.

Not willing to allow the Daemonite to regain its sense, Xander then unleashed a TK blast aimed at its chest in the hopes that it would send a shock through whatever internal organs the alien might have. With the force of an artillery shell it hit the Daemonite Lord, causing the being with the flaming skull to be thrown backwards and against the hull of the Behemoth. Hoping that it would take at least a minute for the enemy to recover, he turned his attention to Backlash, who looked like he had recovered some of his strength. Reaching out towards the white haired man with both his right hand as well as his telekinesis, he lifted the man out of the water and guided him closer. While he was good at improvisation, his planning and tactical skills were strictly amateurish so he needed Marc's advice on how to proceed from here. His opinion was to turn tail and make a run for it on the grounds that with the element of surprise lost and Backlash the worse for wear, victory was slim at best. His telepathic and telekinetic assaults were only as successful as they were because Helspont hadn't been expecting them. Now that the alien bug man had an idea of what he was up against he very much doubted that such attacks would be so effective a second time.

"Marc! We need a plan and we need it fast!" Xander said as Backlash reached his position in the air, "Helspont may be down for the moment but he's not out. What are we gonna do?"

"RRAAGGHHH!! You have done what only a select few have done before, child!" Helspont bellowed as the Daemonite definitely cranked his power up a notch, "You have actually managed to cause me considerable pain! Allow me to return the gesture!"

It all happened in the space of a few seconds: Helspont unleashed a veritable tsunami of power at both him and Backlash that was impossible to dodge and all he could do was erect a bubble-like barrier to protect both he and his mentor from it.

The effort of keeping the barrier intact made stopping Helspont's earlier blast at Marc seem like a light tap by comparison.

Nevertheless he stood fast and put every last ounce of power he had into keeping it intact however as the seconds went by without any let up in terms of power even he had to give out sooner or later. One crack became two, wto become nine and then, with an implosion of energy, the bubble barrier popped and the attack send both him as well as Slayton crashing into the sea. Water seeped in through the cracks in the transparent material of his helmet, causing him to choke as seawater began going down the hatch without his say so. That was the least of his worries, though, since his body felt like so much dead weight and his mind took serious effort to remain coherent. Whether by actual desire or just instinct he fought against the approaching embrace of unconsciousness because he knew that death would almost certainly come if he gave up. Sadly determination alone was not enough when ones own body was too battered to give a damn what the soul wanted. Thus, with stubborn defiance, he sank into unconsciousness, hoping that this would not be the final time his eyes took in the world.

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_**Two Minutes Later, Aboard a Skywatch Transport**_

"Ooohhh! Anybody catch the plates of that mother ship that just ran me over?" Xander asked blearily as consciousness returned to him.

"Take it easy, lad! Ye took quite a thrashing from Helspont so dinnae go pushing yourself too soon," said a man's voice in gentle tones from somewhere behind him and to his right.

Sadly it took him less than ten seconds to put a face to the voice and, as a result, he sat up as quickly as he could in order to find out why the hell he was in close proximity to a member of Stormwatch. Disorientation was the result of his rapid movement but, fortunately, that passed rather quickly allowing him to take in the situation around him.

_MAN! When my luck takes a turn for the worse it really takes a turn for the worse! _He thought to himself as he found out that it wasn't just one member of Stormwatch he was dealing with, but rather eight.

"Nice of you to wake up, Mr. Harris. Perhaps now you can explain why we found you unconscious in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico with Backlash," spoke the white skinned babe known as Diva.

For a moment he was startled that she knew who he was but then his higher brain functions kicked in and he realized that he was no longer wearing his helmet. He figured that they probably removed it when they took him on board and, since he remembered it taking significant damage from Helspont's blast, it was easy to understand why. However it still left him in the company of a group that had been trying to capture him along with those Black Razors in Oxnard so he wasn't about to let his guard down around them.

"Slayton was going on a dangerous mission and I thought he could use some back up," he said in response to the woman's inquiry on the matter.

"Pretty stupid of you, considering how you just got your powers a month ago," Diva said in full lecture mode. "If everything our intelligence division has found out about Helspont is true, then you and Slayton are damn lucky to be alive."

"Lay off the kid, Diva!" Slayton said as he stumbled into the room, pulling the top part of his costume over some obviously wrapped ribs. "The kid might not be ready for a spot on Stormwatch yet but I've been training him myself for almost a month. Considering who we were up against, I think Xander did remarkably well for his first time under real combat conditions."

With a recommendation from someone who trained the majority of them, any further lecturing of him got stopped in its tracks. Add to that the news that he'd been trained by Backlash for the past three weeks straight and he knew that the majority of them would be looking at him in a new light. He just hoped that it didn't provoke them into sticking him with a needle full of sleepy juice, otherwise he was going to be seriously miffed when he woke up.

"Very well, but it still doesn't explain what the two of you were doing here in the first place. You've got some explaining to do, Backlash, because I want to know how you even got involved with Helspont and I want to know NOW." Diva said, apparently willing to table his presence for the time being but all too willing to choose another touchy topic.

"How I got involved? Let's not be coy, Diva." Marc said making it clear he didn't appreciate the person who requested he go against Helspont playing ignorant all of a sudden, "You sending me is how I got involved."

"Me?" Diva responded sounding disturbingly honest with how she spoke.

"The meeting at Battalion's grave? 'Please, Marc. You're the best chance I've got'" Marc said, trying to 'remind' the woman of the time when she hired him for the mission.

He wisely kept his mouth shut since he figured he was pretty much a stranger to these people so they'd be less tolerant towards him than they would their former friend.

"I never met you. I was never at Battalion's grave," Diva stated, making it clear she meant every word with no deception mixed in. "Marc, I don't have any idea what you're talking about. I didn't even leave Skywatch."

"Then if it wasn't you, I've been manipulated," Slayton said, not even hesitating to believe the words of the woman in front of him. "Somebody pointed me at Helspont and I want to know who."

"Not a priority. Stormwatch's mission is to stop Helspont and I need every healthy body I can get," Diva said, making it clear that Marc's bruised ego would have to take a back seat for the time being. "You walked out on Stormwatch in the past, Marc. Can I count on you now?"

Backlash pondered this for a moment but, even with only three weeks of experience with this guy, it didn't take a genius to see which way this guy would go.

"What the hell. I'm here and I always wanted to go back to Nicaragua." Slayton said with a tone that said he was in it for the long haul.

"Count me in, too." Xander said getting to his feet and managing to hide his brief moment of disorientation fairly well.

"Negative. While you may have received some training from Backlash, you are not cleared for combat at this level," Diva said putting her proverbial foot down. "Besides which your lack of experience would likely only make matters worse for everyone."

"I understand I'm new to this whole superhero battle royal deal Diva, but I AM going to be a part of it whether you like it or not," he said, not liking one bit the idea of someone else telling him what he could and couldn't do. "The only decision you get to make is whether I'm there with you guys from the start or I pop up unexpectedly in the middle of everything. So what's it gonna be?"

"As much as I agree with keeping the Xander out of the fight, Diva, it's best to just let him come along," Backlash said, sounding like he knew he was going to regret taking this stance. "I went through the same thing with him when I was getting ready to set out for the Gulf to face Helspont and believe me when I say that he means it when he says he'll follow us if we try and ditch him here."

"Just the same, Marc, we can't have an amateur on the battlefield, especially with the stakes as high as they are," Diva said, never shaking from her stance on leaving him behind. "As for him following us, I've already got something in mind."

It took him half a second to figure out what she was probably referring to and that was probably what saved him from involuntary slumber at the hands of Winter, courtesy of a needle. As soon as his mind came up with an image of what Diva intended to do, Xander immediately raised a skin tight telekinetic barrier around himself that caused the needle aimed at his arm to snap off instead of pierce. Deciding to drive the point home that he wasn't going to be talked or forced out of participating in the upcoming battle, he ripped a piece or railing off the wall, wrapped it around Winter and slammed the man against a wall.

"Look Diva! I appreciate the fact that you're just trying to keep me out of harm's way but I AM going with you guys!" Xander said forcefully, making it clear he'd fight each and every one of them if necessary, "Now are you guys going to waste even more time trying to knock me out or sedate me or are you going to fill Backlash and me in on what we can expect upon touchdown?"

For a moment it looked like every member of Stormwatch was willing to take him up on his 'fight-every-last-one-of-you' scenario but a stand down gesture from Diva stopped them in their tracks.

"Fine. However, when the fun starts, I expect you to stick close to Backlash and Winter, no matter what. Understood?" She asked, making it clear that this was the best deal he could expect from her.

"Understood, m'am!" He replied with respect as he managed a crisp salute with no evidence of sarcasm or humor.

"Then let's get this briefing started." Diva said with some increased respect of her own in her eyes when it came to Alexander Harris.

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_**Nicaragua, Two Hours Later, Abandoned Military Compound in the Jungle**_

"MAN! There sure are a lot of them," he muttered to himself as he looked out the front windshield of the Skywatch transport to view Helspont and his minions below.

"Nae getting' cold feet, are ye lad?" Hellstrike asked with some humor at the look that was almost certainly on the Xan-man's face.

"No at all. I'm just worried that I'm gonna be the only one left standing when all this is over with." He said with equal humor to cover up the slight feeling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

The Scottish member of Stormwatch laughed before returning his view to the front windshield along with everyone else. This was good because if the man had looked any longer, he would have seen a twinkling of fear in the eyes of Grifter and Zealot's child. While the confrontation with Helspont had definitely got the adrenaline pumping, this imminent battle was a whole other can of worms. Here he would not only be fighting against Helspont, but also his minions, who looked like they were decked out in some pretty impressive hardware. He remembered a few of the names that Diva had tossed out earlier, like 'flash suits' and 'plasma cannons', but after thirty seconds of techno-babble he'd pretty much tuned her out. It all meant the same thing in the end, hired muscle with more firepower than most major military forces, and he was just a little concerned about what he'd have to do to take them down. He knew that most of the minions down there were humans who had been forcibly possessed by Daemonites and were essentially trapped within their own bodies. He also knew that it was possible to exorcise the parasites but that only Voodoo had the expertise and perhaps the ability to do so without harming the host. Since she wasn't here, then it was all too likely that he would have to put down the minions permanently if he wanted to keep everyone on his side, including himself, alive and well.

_Just focus on keeping everyone on your side safe and completing the objective kid. _He heard the soldier part of him say before fading away, _Worry about the nightmares later._

"Alright! Fahrenheit, Hellstrike, Strafe and Sunburst go in first to soften them up! The rest of us will use that time to land the transport on the enemy's flank and come at them from that angle." Diva said as she began dishing out orders in perfect commander fashion, "Our priority will be to take down Helspont. If he goes down, the rest of them might just surrender."

"Or go kamikaze on us." Xander mentioned offhand without really thinking about it.

"Possibly, but let's hope it doesn't come to that," Diva said, letting him know that he had been heard and that the possibility he mentioned had been considered. "Alright, let's move out!"

With that, the four flying members of the team designated for the first pass strike moved to the rear exit hatch and, when it opened, they went airborne, letting loose a barrage of energy blasts down on the enemy troops. Checking the charges on both his VAD PP-30 pistols, Xander made sure that they were both in perfect working order since having one or both of them jam on him would really suck in the middle of a fight. There was only enough time to check them once before he felt a tremor thrum through the ship, letting him know that they'd touched down. Clicking the safeties off, he watched as the remaining members of Stormwatch gathered in the back and, once the rear hatch opened up enough for people to start exiting, they all charged out heading towards the Daemonite forces. Deciding that it would be best to start trimming the enemy numbers before the bugs realized that they had incoming, he took aim with his VAD PP-30 pistols and started shooting, aiming for head shots each time. It wasn't easy with Fahrenheit and the others zig-zagging in and out of the enemy ranks but, thankfully, his training under Backlash had made him a good enough shot to make hitting a friendly highly unlikely.

"You go no further, Helspont!" Diva declared as the group of Stormwatch members plus him and Backlash closed the gap between themselves and the Daemonites.

That was when things got hairy and Xander got his first real taste of a large scale S.P.B battle, something, he found, was murder on the nerves after the first three minutes. He was constantly on the move either to get into a better firing position for his pistols or to evade enemy fire sent at him by the Daemonites. He could hear Diva's screeching blast and her declaration that this would be the end for the Daemonite Lord, but he knew it was a helluva lot easier to make the declaration then it was to carry through on it. He had first hand experienced Helspont's power and knew it would take probably everyone on the team attacking him at once to even bring the guy with the flaming skull to his knees. That, of course, could only happen once they took down the majority of the minions so they could concentrate their firepower on the big boss without the small fry getting in the way. Not exactly an easy thing to do when there had to be at least fifty of them present at the moment with the possibility of more on the way considering how big the Behemoth was.

_Gotta stop getting distracted!_ He thought as an energy blast from a Daemonite foot soldier burned away part of his duster jacket, _Focus on killing the bad guys and survival! Leave anything bigger to the boss lady._

Sadly the boss lady, also known as Diva, probably should have followed that bit of advice herself since three seconds later Helspont managed to connect with one of his energy blasts and send her flying into some empty steel drums.

"DIVA!" Hellstrike exclaimed before both he and Winter went seriously on the offensive towards Helspont.

Energy blasts aplenty went flying in the Daemonite Lord's direction, clearing a path and taking a few more minions in the process. Sadly the bug parasite from outer space were stubborn and almost fanatical about getting his hands on his dreadnaught spaceship, so while the shots did have an effect, the villain stayed on his feet. He wanted to help out but at the moment his focus was pretty much centered on evading enemy fire and attaining one shot kills in retaliation. Between taking down enemies, staying alive and sticking his head up every now and again to see what was going on, there wasn't much else he could. He just didn't have the experience that the rest of the S.P.B's had with this sort of thing and playing catch up was pushing him to his limits as it was. Still, he wouldn't give up. He'd take out the small fry so that the experts could focus their attention on Helspont and take the bastard out before the freak could accomplish his objective.

"Strafe, take your best shot at Helspont. Sunburst, you and Nautika clear out some of these troops with Harris," ordered a recovered Diva, who looked none the worse for wear and definitely still delectably beautiful.

"Understood." Suburst said as he took up a position to the right and began laying down high temperature flame blasts.

"Think you can keep up with, me old timer?" Xander asked humorously as he continued to take out the heads of any Daemonite stupid enough to enter his field of fire.

"Watch and learn, Junior!" Sunburst replied, making it clear that he understood that the question was meant to be humorous rather than insulting.

With the witty banter part of the team up accomplished, both of them began to lay down heavy fire on the Daemonite minions that Helspont had surrounding him. Thankfully between the three of them, the bugs didn't have room to breath, much less take proper aim at their targets, but just in case he made sure to be ready to dodge at a moment's notice. Things were going pretty good until Helspont unleashed a blast that pretty much floored Strafe and Fahrenheit before continuing on to knock Nautika onto her back. This sent Sunburst into a rage that was understandable, seeing as how the blonde guy soon revealed that the woman was his wife a moment later. It didn't take his environmental precog powers to tell him what would happen next so, without any delay or lag time, he hooked up with the group consisting of Suburst, Fuji and Hellstrike as they charged Helspont's position. Moving into the lead position, Xander immediately erected a mobile telekinetic barrier since the minions would likely throw everything but the kitchen sink at them in order to protect their Lord. However, when he saw the minions clearing a pathway between the group and Helspont, he realized quickly that ol' flame face was going to deal with them personally.

_Gotta put all the power I can muster into the shield or else we're all gonna wind up in la-la land! _He thought as he pooled every ounce of willpower and determination into his TK barrier so that it would withstand Helspont's assault.

The blast came sooner than later and when it hit the barrier, the headache he'd endured back in the Gulf was made to look like a temporary brain freeze from eating ice cream too fast. It was almost enough to make him stumble but, whether it was through instinct or conscious determination, he continued to charge forward and thankfully his barrier succeeded in withstanding the assault rammed up against it by Helspont. The bad news, though, was that he didn't think he could block another blast like that without being knocked for a loop to the point of having to sit out the rest of the battle. Fortunately Sunburst, Fuji and Hellstrike took notice of this fact and immediately began to do all they could to make sure flame face didn't succeed in getting another shot off. Hellstrike and Sunburst sent their most powerful energy attacks at Helspont while Fuji picked up an impressive piece of debris from the ground and threw it at the villain. Sadly, this delayed the king bug only a few extra seconds before another psionic blast was unleashed that shattered the barrier he'd erected and sent him hard into the remains of a brick wall. He wasn't sure what happened after that, since his senses as well as his mind were knocked out of whack. He thought he heard Winter and Diva yell at Helspont before another surge of power knocked them unconscious, but that was all he could perceive at the moment. Nevertheless, knowing that the battle was going bad and that evil might win, he forced his mind to gains some foothold on coherency as he scrambled to get back on his feet.

"Of course. The Kherubim struggles on. Better you should have drowned with your partner and spared yourself the ending of this world," he heard and soon saw Helspont say as the Daemonite Lord swung Backlash by his own psi-whips into a wall, shattering the construct in the process.

_L-looks like it's t-time to pull out all the s-stops!_ Xander thought as his mind was still shaky enough to prevent him from thinking without a stutter, _All or n-nothing! DO OR DIE!_

Gathering his strength, both literally and metaphorically, he charged Helspont's position letting loose a series of psi-bolts at the minion Daemonites, not wanting them to slow him down by getting in his way. Thankfully it was only when his surrounding subordinates crumpled to the ground in pain that the Daemonite Lord picked up on the fact that the fight was not over yet. However that was all the enlightenment he was willing to allow the bug king and, with a yell of anger, he fired off the most powerful telekinetic blast he could manage right at his enemy. While not allowing himself to become cocky, Xander was able to take some satisfaction in the fact that Helspont was knocked on his ass by the attack. Deciding to continue his assault with telepathy this time, he willed twelve psi-spears to materialize above Helspont and immediately shoot down with the speed of bullets into the creature's body. The sound of a bellow that was both filled with rage as well as pain was all that he to hear in order to know that his barrage had found its mark. By this time he was easily within leaping distance of the Big Bad but knew that his element of surprise was wearing off. While it had been obscured a bit, he knew he sensed his psi-spears being blunted somewhat when they impacted on the Daemonite Lord's body, which told him that Helspont had managed to put up at least a moderate protective barrier around himself and, while it hadn't been enough to completely protect the bug man, it still did some good. That meant that he had to make this next shot the one that finished it or else he would be facing a fully aware and a seriously pissed off Helspont.

_Time to see if Psylocke's psychic knife is as potent in the real world as it is in the comics!_

With surprising difficulty, he began to channel all of his telepathic energy, all of his telekinetic energy, into his right hand and attempted to forge it into a blade. It was like trying to channel a raging river into a small pipe no bigger than your average school bus all at once. However the willpower of one Alexander LaVelle Harris is not to be underestimated and, while it was not exactly stable, he watched as a blade of bluish white energy formed extending from his knuckles a good two feet. Looking ahead he could see that the Daemonite Lord was just now getting to his feet and, unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, ol' propane puss was trembling a bit with the effort. Seeing his opening and knowing that it would never come again, Xander lunged forward, thrusting his psi-blade forward in the hopes of skewering Helspont right through the middle. However, at the last second, the Daemonite shifted its body out of the way slightly, causing the blade to pierce the bug's left shoulder rather than its chest. Nevertheless, it had an effect as the alien with the flaming skull actually screamed out in pain as the totality of the Xan-man's psionic might was slammed into him with the force of a freight train. For a moment he thought that he may have truly defeated the Daemonite Lord or at least knocked old flame face out cold.

A potent right hook to his jaw, however, soon shattered that idea and almost his jaw along with it.

"CURSE YOU!!! I WILL GROUND YOUR BONES TO DUST FOR THAT!!" Helspont roared in a fury that few ever saw, much less lived to tell about.

Sadly his jaw was at the moment in no condition to aide him in voicing a reply to that, seeing as how it hurt like hell to move it even an inch. The only solace he took was that he didn't think that anything was broken but he knew he'd have one whopper of a bruise in about an hour. Forcing himself into a semi-sitting position, Xander looked in Helspont's direction to see that while the bug king was still on his feet the Big Bad's left arm hung limp at his side. It wasn't the kind of limp where a person is just letting it hang by one's side by choice, but rather the kind where a person couldn't move it no matter how much they might want to. Apparently, while his psi-blade hadn't been enough to TKO, Helspont it had been enough to cause some serious nerve damage around where the psi-construct had pierced the Daemonite's body.

_Not exactly the homerun I was aiming for but definitely not too shabby!_ He thought with some glee since he'd just managed to do more than any member of Stormwatch had been able to do.

As Helspont began to approach him, though, he began to think that maybe his best attack to date might well turn out to be his last, since it looked like the Daemonite Lord was itching to send some serious pain his way ending preferably with death.

"My Lord! The Advance scouts have reported sighting the Kherubims Majestros, Savant and an unknown third humanoid at the crash sight of the Behemoth!" Yelled an approaching Daemonite minion, "We believe that the Kherubim are on the verge of unearthing the dreadnaught as we speak!"

This caused Helspont to pause, as though the villain was torn between his desire to exact revenge on the Xan-man and securing his primary objective, before turning towards the approaching minion.

"Gather my remaining troops. We move on to the dreadnaught's location without delay!" Helspont ordered as the head bug began to stride away before coming to a brief stop, "However assign the two closest soldiers to execute this foul creature before rejoining the main force."

"At once, my Lord," said the minion obediently before running towards what was probably a radio or something of that nature.

_Shoulda known it wouldn't end that easily!_ He thought as he tried to come up with a way to save his sorry butt from death by plasma rifle.

He was feeling significantly drained at the moment as he had put everything he had into that last offensive on Helspont and while his strength was slowly returning, he doubted he'd be able to do much when his firing squad arrived. His body felt like it was made out of lead and his head was ringing like a five alarm fire making thinking a chore and movement painful. So with physical movement highly unlikely and his mental powers being somewhere around a tenth of what they were at full strength, his choices were somewhat limited. He certainly didn't have the strength to knock them out through brute force and, while possibly capable of causing them great pain, a telepathic assault wouldn't do the job either. As he heard the footfalls of two people approaching him, he realized that his time for thinking was ticking away fast and he had to make a move soon. So, in the end, he decided on something simple, something that would just save his life rather than take out the enemy, and hope that his training sessions with Backlash paid off. As soon as he felt they were close enough, he began to tap into their minds using his telepathy. It was done carefully so as not to clue them into what was happening and, once he figured he was in deep enough, he began to alter their perceptions and thought patterns. The alterations weren't big or anything because all he did was make them believe their target was about eight feet to the right of where he really was. With a little luck, they'd fire their rifles and then walk away, leaving him to get his strength back and then go wake up the Stormwatch team.

That was the plan at least.

However he failed to take into account the debris that'd go flying under the bombardment of the plasma rifles they were wielding. As a result, a particularly solid chunk managed to slam into the side of his head at the worst possible moment, causing his consciousness to begin to fade to black. Nevertheless, he did all he could until the moment he slumped into unconsciousness to keep the illusion he'd placed in their minds intact so that they would not get a chance to do the job they had been assigned by Helspont. As the last flicker of consciousness vanished, he began to wonder whether or not he'd be allowed to awaken. After all if he didn't wake up in time to help the others stop Helspont then this entire area would likely be reduced to ash when the king bug decided to test the Behemoth's weapons out for the first time.

_Lady Luck don't bail on me now!_ Was the last coherent thought to pass through his mind before la-la land welcomed its newest tenant.

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_**An Hour Later, The Site of Helspont and Daemonites VS Stormwatch Plus Two**_

"How's the kid doing?" Diva asked as Marc Slayton, aka Backlash, approach her position with the rest of the group.

"Well, he's a mess of bruises and he might have a slight concussion, but aside from that I'd say he did remarkably well for his first S.P.B fight." Backlash replied with genuine admiration for how his latest student performed in battle, "I have Fahrenheit treating him now, since I figured he was more likely to listen to a beautiful lady then anyone else right now."

"Then he's in good hands. Was he able to tell you anything about Helspont?" She asked with a slight grin at the humorous comment Marc had made, "Given where we found him, it's logical to assume that he stayed conscious longer than the rest of us so he might know something we don't."

"Other than Helspont rallied his remaining troops and left for the estimated position of the Behemoth, Xander didn't hear anything that we didn't already know. However, the kid did do something that'll give us an advantage the next time we run into the Daemonite Lord and his troops." Slayton replied with a wide smile as he dangled that bit of news in front of her.

"What did he do, Marc?" Diva asked in a tone that made it clear that now wasn't the time for games.

"He said he might just have managed to take Helspont's left arm out of the picture for the foreseeable future. When it looked like Helspont was going to get away, Xander put all his remaining psi-energy into a focused attack and sent it at Helspont." Backlash replied with almost complete professionalism except his smile was more or less still in one place, "It was aimed at the bug's chest but wound up hitting the left arm instead. He said that after he got his head on straight after a right hook by Helspont, he could see the arm hanging completely limp. It could mean that for at least awhile the Daemonite won't be able to use that arm, which means we have an advantage."

"Agreed. Still we have limited data on Helspont's body so he might have already recov—" Diva stated before her com unit beeped indicating that someone on Skywatch was trying to get in touch with her.

Without saying a word, she turned away from Backlash and after walking a few paces away removed her com device from its compartment on her belt.

"Diva here." She said before waiting since she didn't know who would be on the other end.

"This is Weatherman. Give me a Sit-rep Diva" Came Synergy's voice over the com device.

"We blew it. There's no sign of Helspont or his troops. We have to assume they're heading for the Dreadnaught. The only positive thing to come out of this is that I've just been informed by Backlash that his latest Protégé may have succeeded in injuring Helspont's left arm." Diva said as she summarized the situation as efficiently as she could, "It's believed that if we act now, before the arm has a chance to recover, we might have the advantage we need to take Helspont down."

"What shape is your team in?" Synergy asked, sounding somewhat satisfied that the U.N sanctioned team of superheroes managed to at least reduce the capabilities of the enemy somewhat.

"No serious injuries here, but we've seen better days." Diva replied giving an accurate assessment of the situation, "As soon as I'm confident that they can mobilize, we plan on going after Helspont and finishing it this time."

"Good, but I'm afraid I have some bad news for you. In light of Stormwatch's failure to defeat Helspont in your initial encounter, the Executive Council of the United Nations has authorized the release of The Warguard." Synergy, stated letting it be known what she thought of that particular decision, "They were given a deal that if they aided in the defeat or destruction of Helspont and his forces, they would be granted leniency in their incarcerated status. Despot promptly killed half a dozen guards and then led his group out of Skywatch. We managed to track them to the far side of the moon but that's the best we could do before we lost them."

"Understood. We'll pull ourselves together and do whatever's necessary to stop Helspont." Diva replied with a tone that one has when another large problem gets dumped in their laps with one is already there, "Diva out.

"That was Synergy?" Strafe asked with some interest in any new intel or orders.

"Yes. There's news. The Council panicked because of our defeat here." Diva replied sounding as grim as the situation itself was, "The Warguard have been released."

"The Warguard free?! What about my father?!" Strafe exclaimed with urgency at the idea of his father no longer being in cryo-stasis.

"Yes, your father as well. The Council's intent was to send the Warguard against Helspont. But your father…" Fiva replied with some difficulty as she imagined what must have happened soon after Despot's release, "…he led them away. Skywatch tracked them to the moon and lost them around the dark side."

"Nice to see that it's not just the Council I'm used to that manages to screw things up because they think they're in charge," commented Alexander Harris as he approached the main group with Fahrenheit looking a little banged up but still battle ready. "If Despot and his groupies are half as badass as Backlash told me, they should have put a bullet in the back of their skulls the moment they had the chance."

"So you wanna kill my father like your WildC.A.T friend did to my brother!?" Strafe asked loudly with a look on his face that implied he would like to vent some of his feelings on the young man.

"Hey asshole! You shouldn't talk like that about someone you don't even know!" Alex yelled back all but saying 'bring it' with his eyes, "But then I guess you're the idiot hothead of the team! Next time you get a chance, look at some before and after photos of Maul and maybe it'll click in that head of yours that he wasn't exactly himself at the time!"

"ENOUGH!! Whatever the situation was with the WildC.A.T Maul, it doesn't change the fact that we've got a mission to complete." Diva growled at the two young men who were beginning to look like potential problems, "We're talking end of the world here if we lose a second time, so I want you to take whatever issues the two of you have and lock them away for now. I need both of you focused on the job at hand! Understood?!"

Visibly reigning in his emotions, Harris nodded but when Diva directed her gaze towards Strafe, she noticed visible reluctance to let the issue go between him and Xander.

"I said: is that understood, Strafe?" Diva asked making it clear that if he couldn't be counted on to focus on the mission, he'd be sent back to Skywatch immediately.

"Yes sir." Strafe said with a voice just more than a whisper.

"Good. I need everyone focused on what we have to do. We can't afford to lose this one." Diva said as she began to fly towards the direction Helspont must have gone, "Let's get moving. We've got one more chance to confront Helspont at the crash site."

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End file.
